


The Journey of Legolas and Gimli

by Ladyhawk_lhflu, saraid



Category: The Lord of the Rings (Movies), The Lord of the Rings - All Media Types
Genre: M/M, Romance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-01-03
Updated: 2016-01-03
Packaged: 2018-05-11 01:10:25
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 31,276
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5608054
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ladyhawk_lhflu/pseuds/Ladyhawk_lhflu, https://archiveofourown.org/users/saraid/pseuds/saraid
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>During the journey of Lord of the Rings, there is another journey undertaken by Legolas and Gimli. (Now complete! The missing piece was found.)</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Starlight at Fanghorn

**Author's Note:**

> This was written by us in...2006? Saraid gave me it and asked me to post it, after her website had gone down. So I edited it for format, spelling, and a few grammatical issues and am posting it here.
> 
> Note: First, this was originally posted as 3 separate stories. However, I am posting them as one because they are one.
> 
> MUCH thanks to the person who pointed out where the rest of story 1 was (and the original title!)

The night was new, one of those new beginnings his kind treasured so. This dawn, he realized something vital had been missing, from the world and from their quest. He concluded it was really several somethings, but one of them was bitterly more important than the others

It was hard to admit that he was still learning to realize these things. As guilty as he felt, he also realized if he could admit to himself that Mithrandir's return was more important than the survival of two young Hobbits, then he was only being practical. 

Sitting comfortably at the foot of an ancient tree, in this sentient forest, Legolas had to take a moment to ponder what else might be practical or not. Was it practical for him to deny the call of his heart, as inexplicable as it was?

*  
Down by the stream, Gimli gathered wood for camp.

As he stamped around finding branches, he mused on the events of the day: Gandalf's return, the discovery of the Hobbits safety, the need to find more ways to fight Sauron. 

Now we can get some hunting done, now that Gandalf's back! The Orcs will not dare to challenge us. Gandalf's return filled a space in Gimli's heart that he hadn't even realized was empty. The wizard had become the embodiment of hope to the dwarf, hope for the end of Sauron's darkness, hope that Gimli could find happiness.

Happiness...Until the Fellowship, happiness had meant a good meal, good work, and good Dwarven company.

The events of the past months had changed all that however. Now Gimli's eyes were beginning to look up to find his happiness, into the bright blue eyes of an elf. This new tendency scared him.

"The elf has bewitched me, I swear it." Gimli grumbled as he walked over a fallen tree. His mind whirled with reasons why even thinking about the elf was not a good idea....and thinking of the elf as a mate! Preposterous!

Why had his twisted dreams lead him down this path?

*  
Rising, Legolas paced slowly, always withing touching distance of the tree, branches brushing his face, leaves caressing him. His thoughts circled around his Dwarf companion.

He did not know the ways of Dwarves, did not know their habits, the proper mating rituals, if they swore to one or opened to many. He didn't even know if they accepted the love between males.

But he had seen the way Gimli looked at him, and that gave him hope. Gimli was the only Dwarf he had ever looked upon as wondrous and seen his sight returned. He paused his pacing, surrounded by soft leaves that crackled in time with his  
breathing. 

Surely Gimli would not look at him so if it were not allowed?

This was a new day, and the world had a new beginning in it. A perfect time to put aside these dawdling mental ruminations and act, as a warrior should. It was time to stop thinking and start doing, as Aragorn would say, with a Man's short attention span. Sometimes the humans got things right.

He felt a wicked grin cross his face. 

Sometimes they got them better than right.

It had been years since he last touched the Ranger, but the memory stayed with him. He played with it now, enjoying the feeling of heat it brought to him. It was too bad Aragorn had grown up so quickly, grown up and found a mate and pledged himself to her alone.

Before this day, Legolas didn't think he'd ever seriously considered the concept. One mate? A single lover for the rest of his long existence?

Madness.

Now he shook his head, still enjoying the memory of Aragorn's rough tenderness, his awkwardness. The pleasure between them. He missed it, in a faint, nostalgic way. His life was colored with nostalgia, even at such a young age.

That could change, rapidly, if he had his way. If he followed this path, he would have a lover that would stay beside him, until battle or age parted them.

One mate. He'd never understood it until this moment.

Were Dwarves made like Men and Elves? Did they enjoy the same things? He knew that his own tastes had changed from that of most elves. He'd never thought he would find such hair intriguing. Aragorn was hirsute by the standards of  
men, but Gimli Gimli was a bear.

Would Gimli move from the taste of Dwarves and enjoy the feel of smooth skin? Would Legolas' own lack of body hair perplex him?

He had *seen* Gimli watching him. He had seen it. It must mean something.

Even so, his intent to act was foundering under the weight of these new questions. He must shoulder them and carry the burden to the one he wanted, lay them at his feet. He must sit at his feet and ask for answers.

He must sit at his feet and press close to his body. He ached to feel that beard on his face, taste those thick, twisted lips. He wanted to hold onto that broad, sturdy body and find out what was beneath those layers of cloth and armor.....

*  
Dreams, oh those dreams. Gimli didn't know if they should be damned to Mordor or held in the highest esteem with the jewels of Moria. Leaning against a rock, Gimli filled his leather skin with water from the stream. The dreams had started harmlessly enough.

Outside Rivendell, Gimli dreamed of watching the Fellowship in the sunlight. He was always in the background, guarding them. The elf shone the brightest in these dreams, with his golden locks gleaming, but he was always one of eight.

After KhazadDum, his dreams changed. They became focused. Gimli often found himself fighting by the elf's side, admiring his skill with a bow. Those dreams were easy to handle.

The ones that he wanted but could not bear to forget, were of Legolas in mourning. When they fell outside onto the rocks that morning, Gimli had suffered alone, as much as was possible in a group of eight.

But in his dreams, his mind played tricks on him. In his dreams, he found himself reaching for the elf, wanting to ease that look of suffering. In these dreams, he held Legolas in his arms, he buried his face in those silky locks. He even dared kiss those gentle lips...

"Enough!" Gimli couldn't let his thoughts travel any further. How could he think of such things while the evil of Sauron yet rose in Middle Earth?!

Dunking his face into the stream, the Dwarf tried to regain his composure. It wouldn't work between them anyway. How could the tall cool elf possibly respond amorously to his short, furry body, so different than his own? How is it possible that his loins clench at the sight of the blond, pointyeared enchanter, when not so long he wanted nothing more than a Dwarf maid?

Even if he did find something to love in him, how could Legolas possibly understand Gimli's need to be with one mate and one mate only? It would not be practical for an elf, Gimli was sure, to devote himself to only one if he lived thousands of years. Gimli knew he could never compromise once he found a mate. He could not share. It would not be Dwarflike! But there were so many unDwarflike things going through his mind right now, that he was sure that the ring of Mordor had somehow cursed him.

Shoulders slumping, the stout warrior made his way back to camp. Gimli hoped with time he could convince himself that he was not meant for an elf.

*  
Shaking himself free of the tree which could never be confining, no matter how tightly the leaves clung to him, Legolas knew it was time to make the first move. The Dwarf would not. It wasn't in his nature and Legolas smiled privately, to realize he knew such a thing.

He was perhaps the only Elf in the world that knew it.

Making the first move was the easy part. Getting Gimli to take him seriously might be more challenging. He loved a challenge.

By the time he got back the small camp, Aragorn was asleep. The toll of the past few days was plain to see on his face. Legolas wished, wistfully, that he could offer comfort in a form his friend would accept, but the closer Aragorn got to the Throne Of Gondor, the further he was away from his life among the Elves.

However, there was a Dwarf sitting stiffly beside the fire, with a pipe in his mouth and a frown on his face. Legolas had seen it often enough to know something troubled the Dwarf he desired, and this night he would do something about it.

As Gimli sat upon a log, his legs slightly spread for balance, it was an easy thing for Legolas to go and sit between them, making space for himself with delicate strength before tipping his head back to look up at startled dark eyes.

Lost in his contemplations, Gimli was startled when two slim legs moved to obstruct his view of his feet.

Not wanting to face the sharp blue eyes of his intruder, Gimli faced the laces on the elf's tunic.

"What do you want, Master Elf?"

"You look lost, Sir Dwarf. I thought to ease your melancholy with a song." Legolas smiled his small smile, the only one he allowed himself. "If that does not serve, then perhaps something more."

He shifted and stretched his long legs, to be certain the bulge in his leggings was visible beneath his shirts and tunic. His hair drifted around his face, feeling as wild as he did.

He looked to where Aragorn lay. They might have an audience. He did not care, for this was his time. This close, the Dwarf smelled of dirt and honest sweat... and something darker. Something that made Legolas tingle.

*  
Looking down sightly, Gimli watched as the elf stretched his legs. . .then quickly looked up to the handsome face before he was caught staring. This was too open a place for the thoughts that were invading his mind. It was bad enough that the elf might see his reaction to the beauty in front of him. But Aragorn might see as well if he was not careful. 

Gimli coughed and stood up. "Nay, this is not time for song. This is time for quiet and watchfulness, or rest. I will take first watch if you need to sleep." 

Still smiling, Legolas hummed a little, as quietly as he could. His body sang with the rightness of what he was doing and he couldn't keep that all inside.

He slouched further down, so that his shoulders pressed more firmly against Gimli's legs, and stretched his arms over his head languidly before bringing them down and draping them over the dwarf's hard boots, holding him there.

He tipped his head forward, chin on chest, and closed his eyes, still humming.

"I am not particularly tired, Master Dwarf, but I am quite comfortable, so perhaps I will simply rest here."

"What do you play at, Master Elf? We are not Hobbits, curling around each other for safety!"

Arching off the ground, Legolas nuzzled into Gimli's crotch, breathing deeply of the heavy scent. His words were muffled by the position, but he was sure Gimli heard them.

"I am not playing, melethon. Curl with me and you will find no safety at all." 

Not believing his eyes or his touch, Gimli tried to back away from the one thing he wanted so badly. But the log behind him threw him off balance, and he ended on the other side of it. His temper flared. The elf must be playing with him! 

"Go bother Aragorn, you foolish elf! I know you find him pleasing. He is certainly more pleasing to an elf than the hairy body of a dwarf!"

*  
Adroitly avoiding the kicking feet as the Dwarf sprawled over the log, half on it, back in the dirt, Legolas wasn't even tempted to laugh. This was the perfect opportunity to give him an advantage.

He flipped over, far faster than any other member of the party would have been able to, and crawled up the thick body as quickly as he could, swarming Gimli until he covered him head to toe.

He grinned widely, baring his teeth, and lightly snarled his words. "*My* hairy Dwarf, I'd have you say. From this moment onwards Aragorn lacks the attributes I seek in a lover."

Grasping the heavy head between both hands and holding tightly, he lay upon him, full length, and buried his face in the tangled beard. A rug of scratchy warmth, steeped in the scent that made his heart race.

"Trust my body and my words, Gimli, son of Gloin. Legolas of Mirkwood does not lie with his heart."

Struggling against his arousal and the elf's weight, Gimli remembered the words taught to him by his father. "Never trust an elf! You would have me as one of your many conquests. I will not allow it!"

Sensing that Gimli was actually upset and not either playing at it or only mildly so, Legolas slipped off the side, but kept one hand on the barrel chest.

"You have trusted me at your back, and trusted me at your side, Gimlinin. If I cannot have your hairy body this instant, then I ask for the chance to curl, as you said. I seek no conquest tonight. Only your presence, willing. For as long as you wish it."

*  
Gimli looked up into Legolas' eyes, searching for deception and finding none. "If you speak truth, then I would welcome a warm body as I sleep. But what of Aragorn? Would he not be jealous of you turning toward me? I would not have the wrath of a king upon my head."

"Aragorn is pledged to the Evenstar, as is should be. We shared a childhood affection that has passed into friendship, and that only." Legolas gathered himself up and stood, offering a hand to the Dwarf.

"I seek more than your wonderfully warm body, Gimli. Let us seek shelter from eyes and ears in the forest, and I will show you what this Elf knows of love." 

Gimli looked up at his companion wonderingly. "This seems just another dream to me. Show me this is real, as real as the horror we have faced together."

*  
Holding his hand, Legolas looked down, his face serious. "Come with me, Gimli, and I will find a way to show you. Something you will understand and believe."

He didn't know much of Dwarf culture, but he had read things... Elrond's library being what it was, how could not have? A proper gift for a Dwarf was something made. Rock or jewels, metals worked...he would have to make do with his own fair skills.

He tugged on the Dwarf's hand again. "Come, please."

Gimli grasped the hand that wrapped around his. "This better not involve a rotting Orc. Their stench has just now started to leave me." The Dwarf smiled and let the elf lead him.

"As aphrodisiacs go, I do not believe Orc is the best I can do. Someday we will have a room in my father's home, and breath such sweetness..."

Gimli laughed at the words of the elf. " I would welcome such a breath, even if it is much different than the warm smells of the mines."

Legolas led Gimli back to the tree he'd sat under earlier. On the way out he thought to grab his bedroll, hanging it over his shoulder. The ground was soft enough, but it never hurt to add a little padding. As they walked his eyes searched the ground for a suitable piece of wood. They were almost to the tree when he saw it. Not large, but wellcured, thick, and not too hard.

He kept hold of Gimli's hand as he reached for it, pressing against the Dwarf. He wonder if Gimli felt his hardness on his arm as Legolas moved, first against him and then away.

Legolas held his prize up solemnly, and took a seat between the roots of the tree again. He brought the thick hand to his face and nuzzled the knuckles before releasing it and drawing one of his knives.

Gimli watched him, puzzled. "What is this?"

Setting his feet wide, he bent over his work and applied the knife with quick movements. "A token, Master Dwarf. I have read these can be given among your race, for various reasons. Though I do not know any Dwarven courting rituals, I hope to make my own."

As he rid the wood of bark and deformities, making it a smooth, malleable piece, he wondered what he should carve. A ring came to mind, but given the connotations they held in Elven and Human society, that would perhaps be presumptuous.

To another Elf he would have given a decoration.

But what was an appropriate gift for a Dwarf? Gimli wore no jewelry that he had seen. Maybe he should carve something practical, that Gimli would touch and use frequently. No, this was not for daily use, this was a symbol, to show his feelings and desires. It must be something to show Gimli that Legolas did, indeed, think him attractive, want him.

What did he like about the broad, sturdy body he yearned to touch...? Ah, yes. That was it. He stared at Gimli for a long moment, a small smile on his lips, and then bent to his task, shielding his work with the fall of his hair.

Gimli leaned over the elf's shoulder, trying to get a better look. "Come now, what is it? You cannot carve a diamond out of a piece of wood."

"Is it diamonds you require, my Dwarf?" Legolas looked up, still hiding the carving. "I would mine them myself, had I the time." He turned his head so his face was close to Gimli's. "But that," he whispered,"would require waiting, and waiting is something I cannot do. I would love you tonight and every night after, Gimli. Please tell me that diamonds can wait."

"I would not have hair as bright as yours messed by the dirt of those mines." Gimli sat down next to the elf and fondled a lock of silky strands.

"To make you happy, Gimli..." Legolas let the words trail off. He leaned slightly toward the Dwarf, to encourage the fondling. There were few things he liked more than having his hair played with. Being sung to was the only one, actually, but he suspected he was going to have to give up that pleasure in this new life he planned.

"I never thought an elf would be part of my happiness. But now that you are here, I wish you by my side always, in battle, in sleep. . ." Not knowing how to put the rest in words that an elf would find pleasing, Gimli settled for running his hand down Legolas' back.

The brief touch made Legolas shiver. He hoped his body's pleasure at Gimli's touch was obvious. He needed the Dwarf to believe him. To be turned away would be agony. But, determined, he resolved if Gimli refused him, he would approach the Dwarf again and again, wear him down like water on stone.

"I will be anywhere you want me to be," he said softly, shifting to press a thigh against Gimli's."You seem " he paused and looked up from his carving, searching the dark for Gimli's eyes. "More willing to believe, now." He finished awkwardly.

Watching Legolas shifting on the ground, Gimli's eyes widened. Why, he is as nervous as I am. His last reservation slowly fell away, causing him to smile gently at the elf. "I will spread the bedroll, so you can finish your task. We must get some rest before the morrow's journey." With a last caress to the Legolas' scalp, Gimli retrieved the bedroll from the ground and spread it underneath a large tree, keeping one eye on the busy elf.

With another shiver, this one of anticipation, Legolas took a minute to refocus his concentration. Gimli's touch had shaken it badly. With that thought in mind, he slipped and nicked a thumb, which he'd never done before. A bead of blood welled up and he watched it soak into the wood.

All the better, to have blessed it this way. Holding it up toward the moonlight, still hiding it from Gimli with his other hand, he studied the work. It was one of the best he'd done, even though he hadn't used a knife thus in two centuries.Reaching down he sought a stone, found one that felt rough enough. With it, he smoothed the ragged edged, not wanting it to chafe. But Gimli was rough around the edges, so this gift could be as well.

Watching Legolas' raised arms, Gimli strained to see the object in the slim hands. When it was apparent that the sneaky elf would allow him no early glimpse, he turn to remove his helm and armor. "Are we to rise early for our journey, Legolas?" Gimli did not want to rush this night, but duty must come first.

"I did not speak to Mithrandir," Legolas looked over, holding the carving close to his heart. "I suspect the day will carry the same urgency as those before, yet not be so desperate as to leave at first light."

Gimli nodded as he sat on the bedroll and began to untangle his hair. "We must take what comfort we can, then, while there is time."

Rising and stepping lightly over the roots, Legolas settled behind the dwarf, not sitting too closely. Without a word he reached around and dropped the gift into Gimli's lap, then gently pushed the smaller hands out of the way and began working on the snarls with his own slender fingers. 

Gimli examined the object carefully. It was a circle of wood with the architectural lines of Moria carved on it. The interlocking of circles and squares and triangles briefly made him long for home. "You are an observant soul, Master Elf. How could you have remembered this design while in battle?" Gimli put the circlet on his wrist, thinking it was a bracelet, but it was much too big.

Legolas reached around and slid it up to settle on his bicep, making it sure fit snugly. "Long have I watched you, Master Dwarf, and wondered at the strength in these arms." He wrapped both arms around the wide body and leaned into rest his chin on Gimli's shoulder. "My kind give gifts on any excuse, Gimli, so I do not know how this might further convince you of my sincerity. If it does not, though, then perhaps this will." He scooted forward until Gimli was securely between his thighs, legs gripping the dwarf tightly. Legolas' passion was plain to be felt. He only hoped Gimli was not turned away by it. 

The passion between male Dwarves was satisfied with as little beforehand as possible, and often without looking one's partner in the eyes. So Gimli was slightly disconcerted at at being able to look up and see Legolas' bright eyes. This is what I want, but how do I proceed? He settled for rubbing his rough beard again Legolas' smooth cheek, smiling at the shiver it produced. "That is a strong piece of wood you have."

"Surely not too strong for a mighty Dwarf," Legolas chuckled, turning his face into that beard to breath deeply. What a strange, wonderful sensation that beard produced. "I suspect Dwarves grow mighty trees of their own, deep in their caves."

"We do like to bury our trees in caves, warm inviting caves. Do you know where I can find such a place?" Gimli asked, as he reached back and ran his hands over the lean hips of his companion.

Pressing harder into Gimli and resisting the urge to move, Legolas grinned. He got hair in his mouth but it was okay. Different, the way Gimli was. "We Elves prefer warm pools and yielding earth for our trees. Much the way you taste in my mind."

"Or a strong branch to support your weight?" Gimli was chuckling heartily now.

After a good laugh of his own, Legolas got up on his knees and leaned over Gimli, his arms running down the heavy chest, seeking fastenings on clothing. The position allowed him full contact from the waist down. His breath caught and he couldn't find words to speak. 

Gimli chuckled as he turned within the elf's arms and faced him. "Show me the elf way of branches and pools, my friend. Although I have done this before, I have never sought comfort from the arms that held me, or love from the mind in the body next to mine."

"Never, Gimli?" Legolas sat on his heels to bring their faces together. His hands rubbed the back of the thick neck, sneaking under the fall of hair to touch skin with shivery curiosity. "Do Dwarves not share love? Or is it only gropings in the dark, as Men do?"

"It is not our way to share love with other males. Our love is most often reserved for jewels and precious metals. But I find that I treasure those less today." Gimli wondered at the touching of lips that he saw elves, men, and even hobbits do in Rivendell. Maybe that was a good place to start. So he reached around Legolas' head and pressed their lips together slightly.

Legolas dug his fingers into Gimli's neck, marveling at the muscle there, and moved his lips gently. He did so slowly, the way he'd first kissed when he was young. Sweet and a faint hint of dark musk was the taste of his one mate.

Gimli followed the lead of the lips moving on his, groaning slightly at their honeyed taste. Why did Dwarves not do this? What else had he missed? No matter, he would learn of this and other things from the elf, he was sure. As the kiss finally broke, Gimli reached for the laces of Legolas' tunic. "I would see more of you, my elf. Your form is both warrior and jewel to me." Gimli's thick fingers fumbled with the knot for a bit, trying to loosen it without success. Thwarted by a simple task, his frustration level began to rise. "Ach! I know not how to handle this and not look like a clumsy troll." He takes a deep breath, not wanting to ask for Legolas' guidance, but needing it nonetheless.  
.  
"They do not teach knot making in your caves, Master Dwarf?" Legolas teased gently, wanting to spare embarrassment. "I have spent two hundred years learning only that. You are not clumsy, but only unfamiliar with Elven knots." He covered Gimli's hands with his own and plucked at the knot carefully. "Like this. Pull each lace in sequence and " The tunic fell open suddenly and completely, exposing the smooth skin beneath. He put Gimli's hands there, on his skin, knowing his heart was racing and wanting the Dwarf to feel it. He also yearned to feel those calloused, rough hands on him, more than he'd wanted anything in 2000 years. This was why Elves chose one mate, because it made them feel like this.

Gimli felt so out of his element, wanting to caress the lithe form in front of him, but not sure how to go about it. Groping with other males did not prepare him for this, and as he had not chosen a lifemate among the females, he had little to guide him other than Legolas' earlier actions. So, following his lead, Gimli buried his nose into the hollow of the Elf's throat, reveling in the sweet woodsy scent. His arms reached around the other's waist, bringing their bodies together.

Holding tightly to the Dwarf, Legolas was willing to let the moment stand. It was almost too much, to be this close. Things were moving rather faster than they usually did among Elves. This was exactly what he wanted, but the distance between the dawn and this dusk was as an Age. He ducked his head and nuzzled into Gimli's hair, tasting the strands. Coarser than his own, but not without softness. He suspected his Dwarf kept all his softness inside, well protected by the barrier of his will. His senses sought tangible proof of Gimli's interest, but he did now know how to tell with a Dwarf. Were they quick to arouse, or would it be the slow fire he anticipated?

Legolas held the moment, to savor it. 

Gimli sighed deeply, content for the moment. But as he let his hands slowly map the elf's back and hips, his body began to warm. He wanted more. He wanted to see his companion in all his stately splendor. From the fingers wandering above the edge of his breeches, the dwarf realized that Legolas wanted the same. So he took a deep breath to prepare himself to be judged in a way he had never been before.

Caressing the pale fingers, Gimli moved back slightly. 

Legolas felt Gimli stiffen and stopped what he was doing, concerned. He drew back just enough to study dark eyes beneath bushy brows. "I am too skinny," he said softly. "Too pale and too light and entirely too pretty for a Dwarf such as you. But you will look past that, won't you, melethon?"

"If you will look past my rough hair, I can look past your beauty, jeweled one." Gimli then smiled as he unfastened his breeches. The dwarf watched the elf carefully as he bent down to unfasten his boots. He kicked them off with his pants and stood proudly naked.

"I see I am going to have some competition," Legolas said slowly, drinking in the sight. Beautiful to his eyes was the stout body and thick hair. "I half fear to bare myself, with the comparisons that will doubtless come!" He smiled a little, wanting to put Gimli at ease, and also to draw out the moment. 

Sitting further back on his heels, he leaned back and balanced on one hand. The other ran down his chest slowly, from collarbone to navel, and lingered at the tie of his leggings. "What do you think, my furry mate?"

"I think those should come off now," Gimli watched his slow, graceful movements in growing frustration. 

"Then off they come." Holding his body in the arched position with the powerful muscles of his abdomen, the Elf used both hands to untie his leggings and open the front. It wasn't necessary to take them off just yet he was enjoying himself, and the look in Gimli's eyes, the way his voice grew harsher. He pushed them down enough to spring free, the sudden shock of cool air making his shudder. Still arched, he leaned back on his hands again, bending himself, and shook his hair forward so it covered his shoulders and slid over his chest. The moonlight was bright enough that he knew, without pride, that he was shining. At this moment all of import was that Gimli saw it, and Gimli desired him.

Gimli saw the glowing elf in front of him and stifled a gasp. It wouldn't do to inflate Legolas' ego. So instead he replied "You'll do. But I hope I can keep warm on that hairless body of yours." His smile betrayed his harsh words, and he could see the replying sparkle in the blue eyes in front of him.

"I am cold, now that you mention it. Perhaps a certain hairy Dwarf of my aquaintance would be so kind as to cover me? For I will never need a blanket when he is near." Lying flat on his thighs, Legolas opened his arms and beckoned with his fingers, hands open and welcoming.

Gimli stared in amazement at the flexible elf. But wanting to please Legolas, he covered the few paces to his mate and lay himself carefully on him. Naturally, his legs seemed to fall around the elf's narrow waist. In this position, his erection brushed against Legolas' hip. Then with a small shift, Gimli's member touched Legolas' for the first time. Gimli gasped in pleasure, but could not help looking for Legolas' eyes, to ensure that this was the right thing to do, this touching. He was disappointed, however, to find the elf's head tilted back, gazing at the treetop. 

His body sang, and Legolas could only hold himself in the moment, feeling. Gimli's welcome weight and warmth, the brush of hair and the intimate touch threatened his control. He wanted this to be more than a grope and tickle in the woods. It was meant to be more. With his body taut, he tipped his head back to look at the sky, stars glittering through branches. 

"Gimli..." he whispered, listening to the name float on night air.

At the sound of his name, some of Gimli's worries eased. Legolas' voice was husky, as if he lacked air. He took this as a good sign, and shifted again. This time his ears were greeted with two moans, both his and the elf's.

Wrapping his arms around the dwarf, Legolas tried to catch his breath. The night, the stars, the trees, the heat that covered him. Gimli was heavy and solid. Like lying beneath a slab of granite, only finely polished. Alive and breathing. He wondered, if Gimli felt the same attraction to him he felt to the dwarf. Yes, they were here, they touched intimately.

Gimli's organ felt amazingly hard and hot... and larger than he had imagined. His fantasy life had been extraordinarily active over the past few weeks, not unusual for an elf. Vivid and enjoyable, but nothing to compare to this.

He needed to move. Acceptance was all well and good...

"Gimli," He moaned, and grabbed the thick round curves of the dwarf's buttocks, his fingers barely denting the hard muscle. "What do Dwarves do?" he breathed, shifting his hips slowly from side to side.

"Do? In the dark, in the caves? Not this, only drilling. But I like this is there more?" Gimli moaned softly as he imitated Legolas' movements.

Legolas chuckled, low and soft. "'Drilling' is an apt term, I suspect." He lifted his head and arched his long neck, running a hand up the broad back to tunnel under the dense hair and grab the back of Gimli's neck. It was so wide, corded with tendons, his hand almost couldn't reach across it. "With women, Gimli, is there only this?" he spoke with their faces close together.

"I have never been with a woman. But I have heard about things women like. Do male elves like this too?" Gimli propped himself up on his elbows and began licking at Legolas' chest. 

When he reached a nipple, the Dwarf blew on it slightly, then licked the tip, slowly, in circles.

"Yes...." Legolas sighed and moved his hips again, setting a slow, gentle rythm. Thier members pressed tight, then soft, then tight again. "I would say *all* elves like that!"

Gimli smiled against Legolas' chest, then moved to the other nipple, which he bit carefully. The body underneath his bucked and squirmed. /Do I drill him now?/ Gimli asked himself. He wanted relief, but this was too intense to end so soon.

Starlight and romance had their place, but Legolas was abruptly done with them for the moment. Tightening his arms around the dwarf, one hand still holding his neck, he pressed the furry face to his chest and pulled with sudden strength, flipping them both forward. 

His hand kept Gimli's head from hitting anything painful. Now he straddled a surprised looking dwarf and smirked.

"There is much more to show you, my brave warrior." He settled his knees on either side of the wide chest and wriggled until his cock left a trail of slick drops, then began to calmly comb through Gimli's beard with both hands. "There is slow, and gentle and teasing. There is hard and hot and heavy."

"There may even be love," he said more softly. With both hands in the beard, he used it to pull Gimli's head up close. 

The dwarf’s mouth half opened, as if expecting a kiss, but Legolas bit on his lower lip instead. He held it between his teeth with only a touch of pain, then sucked on it as the blood plumped it.

Gimli reached around Legolas' head and pulled slightly on the silken strands. Pulling Legolas's teeth from his lips, he whispered. "Is love different than the others ways?"

"If you were another Dwarf, I would have already filled you here." Gimli ran his hand down Legolas' back to the crease between his cheeks. "But, alas, we would have already parted ways by now."

Legolas scooted his ass down so the hand was hotter against his skin, drawing Gimli with him, using the beard as a tether. He kissed his craggy face, soft, closemouthed kissed, then put his teeth to the cheekbone, where the beard began, arching his back to rub his organ on the firm, furry belly. Nosing through the forest of hair for a curled ear, he suckled it briefly before speaking. "Alas non, for we have many hours before dawn, and love likes time. Time and surprises, my hairy mate." He bit the ear suddenly, and wondered if Dwarves tasted each other, the way elves did. There was one way to find out. 

He moved back, pushing at Gimli's chest now, sliding a hand behind his neck to support it, and took himself in hand, unable to resist the urge to stroke once, twice. "The taste of elves is like nectar at dawn, Gimli... would you like to judge for yourself?"

Admiring the elf's long, pale cock, pointy like his ears, Gimli watched as a drop of liquid fell from it to his chest. He reached down to his own stomach chest and retrieved the dewdrop, brought it to his lips as he watched the elf's stormy eyes. He sucked on his finger slowly, watching as his lover sucked in a breath. "Nectar indeed. I will have to seek more." The Dwarf bowed his head and wrapped his lips around the crown of the pulsing cock, slowly sucking.

Any lingering apprehension in the Dwarf died as he heard the musical notes of the elf's yell. He couldn't understand the words but he figured it was good, as Legoas grabbed his head and pushed him further down.

“Tuilinn enni, nin garn, (Swallow me, my own)” Legolas panted. He held Gimli's head between his hands, taking some of the weight of it, and sat straighter, fighting the urge to thrust. If Dwarves did not do this, his new lover wouldn’t be ready to take all of him.

As much as Legolas wanted him to.

He wanted to thrust, and hard. He folded himself over Gimli's shaggy head and felt his bumpy nose touch the sensitive skin of Legolas' lower belly, where sensation shivered and skittered. He held that head there and used the starkly hot mouth, with the wonderful hair touching and tickling and scratching everywhere. "Gimli.." he moaned, unsure what he wanted to say. His hands tightened.

Gimli opened his mouth as wide as he could, trying to take in as much of the hard, sweet rod as he could. He swallowed around it, wondering if tasting was enough. But then the elf's hips shifted away slightly, and almost thrust. Ah, so that's how it is, like drilling. He wrapped his callused hand around the base, trying not to injure the sensitive flesh.

His head bobbed slowly, taking a little in, then pulling away. His other hand, trying to find a place to rest, brushed against the elf's rocks. Hearing a keening whine at that point, Gimli repeated his swipe, then fondled them gently.

Curious as to the taste of the Elf everywhere, the Dwarf pulled his mouth away from the sweet cock and wrapped his lips around one of the rocks. Tasting salt, sweat, and musk, Gimli was in Moria, the Moria of old. Here, the elf tasted like home.

"Like that," Legolas moaned as he rode the pleasure. "You learn quickly, Master Dwarf!" 

Smiling to himself, but not wanting to speak, Gimli rubbed Legolas' member gently.

"Norn, hard! I'm no little Hobbit, I will not break at your touch!" Legolas pushed against his hand, demanding.  
In response, Gimli pulled tightly on the staff, as he put his teeth to the rock.

Legolas muttered almost silently, a spike of heat traveling his body. Holding himself tense, he tried to fight the climax that gathered in his belly like a thunderstorm.

The Dwarf swallowed around both of the elf's rocks as he pumped the hard cock like a bellows. He felt the elf tensing, so he pumped harder, and felt his own body tense in sync with the elf's. The roaring in his ears became louder as his heart sped up. /I will make the elf sing for me./

And sing he did. Gimli felt the elf arch toward him stiffly. Removing his face away slightly, Gimli watched as the flushed, sweaty elf opened his mouth on a cry. 

The forest was almost silent around them.

As Gimli increased his ministrations, Legolas reached upward with one hand, reached for the sky. The joy he felt in this was practically immeasurable...he could not help but lend his voice to it.

The stars seemed to answer; his blood heated and the joy flowed in the heavy spurts he treasured. Elven stars, his seed, his life. From him to Gimli. His mate.

Gimli watched as the elf passed over the knife into oblivious pleasure. His awe shone in his eyes. "Ah my elf. You are a treasure worthy of diamonds."

The jeweled liquid from Legolas' cock had spilled onto the Dwarf's hand. He raised the hand to his mouth as the elf watched with drowsy eyes. The taste of his mate's essence hardened the rod between his legs.

Gimli figured the time had come for what he knew best. He had given what his mate needed, now he could seek his own relief. The Dwarf moved to coax the elf onto his stomach. He laid his hand on Legolas' shoulder, smoothing over the velvet wrapped steel.

"Was that what you wanted, my elf?" Gimli's beard whisked over the elf's chest and arm. He grabbed Legolas's hand, pulling him in the direction of the spread bedroll. "Come, I would have you more comfortable for what is next."

Letting himself be pulled along as the dwarf slipped out from under him and moved over the ground, Legolas smiled. When they reached the bedroll, so neatly organized, he suddenly dug his heels in and stopped, then switched directions abruptly, showing forward, catching Gimli and bearing him down. 

"And what do you think happens next, son of Gloin?" he panted, voice roughened. With his arms around the sturdy body he wrestled him down to his stomach and leaned over him. He knew his weight alone would not be enough to keep Gimli subdued, so he added the tease of his body, insinuating himself between thick thighs and pressing his hardness close.

Gimli was startled to find himself in this position, once again against the hard rod of the elf.

"Did I not do well enough, Legolas?"

Gimli tried to rise to a sitting position, but the elf would not let him move.

"You were splendid, Gimli. For someone who drills regularly, you are greatly skilled at polishing your jewels!" Easing his grip as it seemed Gimli was going to play along for the moment, the elf lay down flat, covering as much of his lover as he could.

He felt like a leaf, floating on a great sea of fur. Wonderful, heated fur that roused his blood yet higher.

"There is much for you to learn about elves, Master Dwarf, and more for me to learn about dwarvenkin." he tucked his head down over a shoulder and pressed his lips to Gimli's ear as he murmured. "In your rocky caves, in the dark of night, how is it decided who does the drilling and who becomes the mine?" 

Gimli sighed as he stroked the elf's flank. "It is decided by one's rank in the mines. As you are older, and more experienced, I would be expected to be willing."

"Then you were trying to put one over on me!" Legolas crowed softly.

Gimli eyed his mate speculatively. "I do no such thing. This is all new to me. I learn at your talented hands tonight."

The speculation was pure dwarven irritation, but Legolas heard something sweeter in the words. A taunt came to his tongue, but he swallowed it back and returned in kind.

"This is new to Middle Earth, Gimlinin. We are new and all is new to us. Let me teach you this as an elf would."

Gimli looked up at Legolas with a small smile. "I would want no other teacher." 

Gently the elf pressed the broad shoulders down, moving the thicket of hair aside so he could nuzzle the strong neck as he settled close again, arms cuddled close, closing his eyes for amoment of quiet peace before the storm rose again. He kissed Gimli's neck, tasting him, and mourned the passage of time that brought dawn ever closer.

"You will be my rock so far from the sea.” He licked at the sweat gathered there, and it tasted like stardust, mined and ground and sprinkled here. "I will teach you everything I know."

Gimli squirmed under the elf's touch, already overheated from their earlier play. "I need some relief. My lust already bores into me too far, I fear it will shatter me." He grabs Legolas's buttocks hard and growls in his pointed ear. "Either drill me now or I will have to test your strength."

Grabbed so tight and hard, Legolas silently agreed that the time for such fluff was past. They had nothing to ease the way. No scented oil or fancied salve. Perhaps he could have brought the mineral spirits Aragorn used on his blade. But no. There was another way.

With a sensuous wriggle, he moved down so he could suck at the base of Gimli's neck, where the hair was thick and dark and tickled his tongue.

He pressed his drill into the deep crevice he wished to mine, and used his knees to push this thick legs wider, then gnawed hard for a moment.

Gimli pushed up onto his elbows, trying to get Legolas to press into him. "Do it! Drill me already!"

"I have another tool in mind," Legolas scolded, then bit. He bit his way down the spine, a smooth crease between the heavy mounds of muscle and the hard curve of ribs.

At the top of the ass, he bit hard and then sucked gently, before running his tongue over the sensitized spot.

"Do dwarves taste like mountains, Gimli?" He purred darkly. "Or do you taste of ash and fire?" Before Gimli had a chance to answer he ran his tongue down the deep separation, lingering slightly over the entrance he sought.

Gimli was startled to feel Legolas' tongue reaching toward that dark place, and instinctively wanted to move away. But he held his place as his mind became overwhelmed by fire.

"I do not know how I taste, but I feel aflame." He wanted to grab the elf's pointed ears and pull him even deeper. But since he could not, he simply shifted up, trying to get that feeling deeper within

Legolas chuckled, loving the way his dwarf responded to him.

He made him wait another moment, then began licking deeper in, long swipes through the short hair that covered this space.

He breathed deeply, inhaling the base essence of his lover.

When Aragorn was young they had spoken often of this; mating and love. As the Man tried to make sense of the differences between his kind and elves. Legolas knew well this was considered an unclean practice among the Men, and apparently dwarves knew not of it at all.

Unclean was a concept Legolas had trouble understanding. At a certain level, yes, of course it was. But many pleasureable things could be considered unclean if you thought about them too hard, and most everything could be washed.

This was his mate, his one mate for all time. Everything about him was to be sacred, treasured and precious to Legolas.

He nuzzled deeper, filling his lungs with Gimli's scent. It was darkest here, filled with musk and raw mortality. With his tongue he probed the small entrace he sought, at first gently and then with more need.

Gimli felt the first touch of the tongue at his entrance and gasped. It was like a lightning bolt, like a touch of ice to heated skin, this feeling. He had known nothing before this, nothing. This was mating, real mating, not fumbling in the dark. There was gentleness in Legolas' probing tongue, but also strength. Gimli let that strength hold him now, as he collapsed within sensation.

The sudden looseness in Gimli's body didn't escape Legolas' notice. He grinned against the hairy skin and wondered briefly at his own pleasure in this. Yes, he had been attracted to Gimli's personality first; his courage and determination, and then later his sense of humor and ability to laugh at himself -- but the physical had come later.

Recently, really.

Earlier, he had wondered what the mass of hair would feel like, what it would be like to hold onto someone so short and thick and hard. . .now he couldn't remember having ever wanted different.

The hair that rubbed his face now was short and stiff, almost like the bristles of a brush, but softer. He rubbed his cheeks on Gimli's and circled his tongue just inside the heavy body. Was Gimli's passage the same as an elf's? Was it short and wide, like the dwarf himself, or would it be as tight as one of Legolas' kin? He could find out now, learn more of his lover.

With a shift of his shoulders he pressed closer, breathing only the air on Gimli's skin, and went deeper, as far as he could go.

Giving in to pure instinct, Gimli rocked his body, pushing Legolas' tongue into him. He groaned at the sensation, felt his body tighten for the final release.

I would be happy to never see another mine if he would continue doing this, he thought.

Though he had never touched his dwarf before, Legolas knew, almost instinctively, that he was too close. He pulled away reluctantly. Another night he would continue this to the conclusion, if Gimli desired it.

With a grin he leaned to wipe his face on Gimli's back.

"A handy towel you can be, master dwarf," he teased. "My tool is ready if your mine is."

"If you do not move soon, you will find my axe cutting those pretty locks of yours, and maybe more. I ache, curse you!"

"You ache for me?" Legolas crooned as he lifted Gimli by the shoulders, deftly arranging him more comfortably, with his hips over a bump of root beneath the bedroll. "Your body longs for mine?"

"How could it not? I have not felt this way, ever. Sauron's Ring could not give me this much pleasure, even in its deception." He breathed raggedly as he felt Legolas position himself behind him.

"Ah, Gimli. . ." moved by the words, Legolas wished he could kiss his lover, but the position wouldn't allow it. There would be time for that later. His own arousal, so renewed, was pushing him hard. The dwarf obligingly spread his legs when Legolas wanted them wider. His breath came hard, his chest working like a pump. Fascinated by it, Legolas lay his face there as he reached down and sought the hole with a finger wetted in his own mouth.

"Be still a moment. . .I will be with you soon." He sank the finger in, glad that Gimli accepted it so easily. A fragment of an earlier exchange came to him. . .

If dwarves decided place by rank, then Gimli, being the equivalent of a prince -- ranking close to Legolas, actually -- probably had never...he felt a painful lurch in his heart.

That Gimli did this, and said nothing was astonishing. Among elves it would be an occasion for celebration. A thousand years ago, after Legolas was done with loving she-elves, Haldir of the Golden Wood had taught him the ways of males.

He vowed to be as careful with Gimli as the Guardian had been with him.

"Why do you wait? Is it that different with elves?" Gimli looked behind him, trying to decipher Legolas' face. The elf seemed to be in awe of something. He didn't think he was that awe inspiring, but who knew with an elf?

Leaning as far as he could, Legolas brushed his lips over the bearded face.

"It is different with elves, Gimli. Especially when we love." He used one hand to hold Gimli further open and worked another finger in. It was tight, but not so much as he'd expected. Apparently Gimli was thick and wide everywhere. . .His drill certainly was. Legolas was already looking forward to taking it.

The third finger went in as well, though it was a very tight fit now, and felt quite dry. He hoped there wouldn't be any pain following.

"Be still, Gimli, and tell me if it hurts," he warned, moving closer and seeking the entrance with his tool.

"You couldn't hurt me, a mere elf." But Gimli froze as Legolas' member probed his entrance. The slow, careful movements pushed a moan out his lips. This was better than he ever expected.

Pushing back, trying to get more, Gimli was startled when he found himself filled to capacity without the elf flush against him.

He looked behind him. "Something is wrong."

Legolas wasn't completely surprised to find he could only sink about two-thirds of himself into his mate.

"Nothing is wrong. We are merely different," he said, sighing. The tightness was wonderful, the closeness more so. He leaned down, on his arms, and pressed his chest to Gimli's back, to better feel the hammer of his heart.

His head was even with Gimli's, so he could nose his face into the dense hair and breathe of it. He had to be careful not to pull out all the way. . .if this went quickly he didn't want to have to stop to find his place again. And he would have to be just as careful to not drill too deeply. Such injuries were uncommon but not unknown and he would not have Gimli suffer one.

The first strokes were awkward, short and jerky. But his body learned the limits quickly and Legolas gave himself over to it, hips thrusting fast and hard, always stopping at just the right second. He knew right away that dwarves had the same star inside them as elves, the one that made them scream.

"Oh, so that's what I've been missing!" The dwarf grunted as Legolas hit the sensitive spot inside.

On his knees and leaning, Legolas reached to grab Gimli's shoulders and held them hard as he arched into each thrust. He knew he should touch Gimli, reach for his drill, but he was too involved in this mating and could not be distracted. It was more powerful than he'd thought it would be. This was something new for him, and more proof this was his mate.

"Gimli - are you - near?" he managed to pant. The dirt beneath the bedroll was giving way as he dug himself in. He rolled his head back, eyes closed, to better absorb this marvelous feeling.

"More than near." Gimli choked out as his body tensed. Within seconds, his tool expelled its load and he roared.

Caught in the moment, Legolas moaned a snatch of song, holding to Gimli as the dwarf shook.

"Im dartha an i giliath, a im dartha an i aear, maethor-nin, deri ah enni. . .(I wait for the stars, and i wait for the sea, my warrior, waiting with me)"

The completion of the moment was too much for him; he jerked helplessly as he sent his seed deep into Gimli's mine, the sudden lubrication making him slip out as he shuddered.

Panting, he lay atop the dwarf and slid down his solid sea of muscle to kiss the back of his neck, blowing hair out of his face and chuckling a little. His hands clenched and rubbed the heavy round balls of Gimli's shoulders.

Gimli turned slightly underneath the elf. "You are extraordinary, Master Elf. We should repeat this soon, I think."

"As often as opportunity presents, master Dwarf," Legolas rose enough to let Gimli turn over, then slid down to rest his head on the barrel chest. He suspected that Gimli did not yet understand the nature of Legolas' commitment. Explaining it might frighten the dwarf off, so he kept the strongest of his feelings to himself.

He put an arm and a leg over Gimli and cuddled down. Did dwarves cuddle? He doubted it. There would always be more for Gimli to learn.

Gimli yawned. "Do we sleep here for the night, like this? Aragorn will come looking for us." But already the dwarf's eyes were closing as the heat from Legolas' body seeped into him.

"No matter, Master Dwarf. . ." Legolas felt himself drifting and welcomed it. There were hard days ahead and behind.

Gimli glanced at the starlit elf before his eyes closed altogether. Maybe he wouldn't mind Aragorn knowing. It was, after all, a new day.


	2. Clouds in Edoras

The ride to Edoras was rough. Gimli held onto Legolas’ waist tightly, afraid of flying off. The horses were swift, but not swift enough for their now White wizard.

Often, the elf would turn his head and glare at the dwarf as if annoyed by something. Was he slowing him down by clutching him too tightly? He realized the urgency, but dwarves did not do well on swift horses.

By the time Gandalf announced they had arrived at the Golden Hall of Mendasal, Gimli’s arms ached from the strain of staying attached to the elf. He sighed with relief, knowing they could not speed through the town.

Legolas reined the horse in, though it wasn’t necessary. The horse of Rohan was committed to following Shadowfax. The hands on his waist held tightly and he enjoyed that. Would have enjoyed letting his imagination stray, if not for the pace they set. And however much he liked the strong hands that gripped so tightly, they held Gimli's body far too close to his own.

Twice he found he'd slowed the horse unconsciously, to better savor the sensation. The dwarf was half hard and Legolas knew him well enough after one night to recognize this, as his pelvis was tight enough to Legolas' behind for him to feel it clearly.

Surely Gimli did not do it deliberately. The mission was too urgent, the situation too dire. Yet he almost hoped he did.

It would mean he had a fair chance of continuing what they'd started, even if Gimli did not yet know exactly what that was. He would have to tell him, and soon. His desire for this being, his one mate, was growing. One day it would become unbearable.

He needed to be in an established relationship before that happened. Then he could avoid the anguish that could drive an Elf to death.

When they entered the village of Edoras, he breathed a sigh of relief as Gimli relaxed and leaned away, his hands loosening. 

Legolas knew he had to find the time to talk to his friend. Talk him into more.

*  
“You’d find more cheer in a graveyard.” Gimli's eyes scanned the town around the mighty castle, horrified. These people lived day to day in fear, it was obvious. For a second, he felt guilty for the pleasure he shared with elf the night before. But he dismissed it, although it was difficult. One must take what pleasure one can to survive.

As they wound their way to the castle, he mulled this over. 

Legolas had taught him much. It would be easy to become addicted to the new experiences. The elf himself was a joy. Gimli had never known someone so giving. But there were more important concerns at the moment. To dwell on pleasure at such time was folly.

Accepting the elf's hand as he dismounted, he focused at the problem at hand. His back stiffened as he mounted the steps. Legolas' eyes glowed with determination the one moment he turned back to look at him. Gimli, for once, was content do as Aragorn was doing, and let the older and wiser lead this mission. 

The guards moved to take their weapons. Gimli watched in amazement as the elf twirled his knives and handed them over. He grunted as he handed over his axe. Showy elf, was this his way of laughing in the face of danger? 

He’d seen enough that he would never doubt Legolas’ skill in battle. Indeed, he would rely upon it. The elf was a worthy shield-brother.

*  
Hearing Mithrandir's words, Legolas immediately offered his arm, as if to a feeble uncle. He made a subdued show of helping the wizard up the steps and into the throne room.

Even as Aragorn watched the guards pacing them on the other side of the pillars, Legolas measured the room with his eyes, marking the exits and entrances. He kept to Mithrandir's side until some subtle movement of the Wizard told him it was time to let go, and then he backed off quickly, leaving him to confront the remnants of King Theoden. 

Legolas had never met him, but he'd heard the Man was strong and wise.

Today he looked nothing like that.

Today he looked...  
...on the verge of death, like he had been there for many weeks.

Mithrandir exchanged words with Wormtongue. When the other man would have attacked his wizard, Legolas took care of it. He rather hoped Gimli had noticed. It was dangerous to think so, but he wanted the Dwarf to see that Legolas was strong, that he was a brave warrior. That he deserved the Dwarf's love.

There was a scuffle. He just saw Gimli deal with the wizard, looking back over his shoulder.

"I would stay still if I were you."

He felt a shiver of need run through him, hearing Gimli speak so.

The guards were hardly a threat Legolas took them out, almost distracted. 

Then Mithrandir showed his true self and Legolas was unable to watch anything or anyone else. It was all he could do to remain standing. A part of him wanted to fall to his knees and worship as a Man might. 

He had come to expect bad things on this journey, and realization that Saruman himself was there, fighting Mithrandir, was only another of many.

He felt no fear, knowing the wizard was in his element. Mithrandir had come back to them more than whole.

The battle thrilled him, though he kept it from his face.

If they were alone, he would have Gimli stripped and on his stomach this moment.

*  
Gimli thrilled at the face of fear beneath him. The wicked man deserved to cower. 

"I would stay still if I were you." 

The greasy haired man didn't move. This was too easy. But he glanced up to see the real war commencing. Saruman! Crafty wizard. But Gandalf handled it well. He silently cheered as the king grew noticeably younger with Saruman's temporary defeat.

He watched the elf stare intently at Theoden, seeming to encourage him back to strength. How he wanted that strength of gaze focused on him, but he knew the king needed it more than he.

Gimli tried to keep the blackguard on the floor as the king gathered his strength and his sword, but the slimy one slipped.

They all stood back as Theoden grabbed his aide and threw him down the castle stairs. Gimli grabbed Legolas as they headed outside to keep things under control. "Is Saruman hiding in that one too?"

Grabbing back and glad for the chance, Legolas held onto the Dwarf for a minute.

"He is only a servant, a worm at the feet of the evil. Do not worry about him."

He wanted to hold onto Gimli much more firmly and obviously, but there were too many eyes.

As Aragon announced Theoden's presence to his astonished and excited populace, Legolas watched the woman that had run to the King. He watched as Aragorn announced and bowed to the king. Aragorn’s presence was powerful, his words rang with conviction. It was a moving moment.

As Gandalf took Theoden to visit the grave of his son, the warriors followed Eowyn into one of the meeting halls.

Aragorn conferenced with Hama in one corner of the large, drafty room.

Gimli decided he'd rather be warm than warlike at the moment, and decided to move near the fire. Sitting down in one of the high-backed chairs, the Dwarf removed his headgear with a sigh.

*  
Seeing his mate go to rest for a moment, Legolas felt a surge in the desire he felt. It had simmered within him since the night before. One night was not nearly enough to satisfy him.

Without thinking further than the need to be close to Gimli, even if that was all he could have, Legolas padded across the room. He stood behind the dwarf for a bare second and then moved around in front of him.

The memory of the night before sang in his veins, though this was not the time or place to actually sing.

Moving closer, his arms at his sides, he nudged his way between Gimli's knees and turned to fold on the floor, sitting between those legs as he had.

He felt Gimli tense and restricted himself to one hand on a heavy ankle, unable to even feel skin under the thick trousers and heavy boot.

But knowing it was there.

He stared into the fire.

*  
Gimli looked down at the elf, bemused. "What are you doing, Master Elf?" Not wanting others to see him this close to Legolas, he moved his chair backwards slightly. He whispered. "This is neither the time or place for what I believe you want."

"There may never be another time or place, melethon-nin," Legolas answered just as quietly, discretely moving, following Gimli and increasing the contact with his cheek pressed to a wide dwarven knee. "I wish no more than this." He felt a measure of peace in his blood, just being this close. This close and basically alone.

Gimli held back the volume of his voice, but could not hold back the anger.

"Theoden has gone to visit the grave of his son! He did not even realize the boy had died! It would not do him any good to see us here like this." The dwarf glanced behind him to watch the conversing men across the room. He did not like being watched, especially with a lover. "There is much to be done to protect this kingdom. Let this be for now."

*  
"I ask nothing more than the chance to sit close and touch you," Closing his eyes, Legolas nuzzled against the rough fabric. He ran his hand up Gimli' s leg, knowing it could not be seen. "You have become... important to me, Master Dwarf."

Frustrated at the elf's apparent lack of hearing, Gimli grabbed Legolas' arm and shoved it away from him. "How important can I be if you do not do as I ask?!"

A bit hurt by the vehement rejection, the elf looked up at the dwarf, not knowing how his eyes shone.

"Important but not considerate," he observed, still speaking softly. "No one is watching us and I would not care if they did. Melethon-nin, I wish only to be close to you. There is no shame in this."

Leaning close again, he let his hair slide across his face. Two thousand years had taught him something of seduction.

"Can I not touch you, even this smallness, Gimli? If you knew how I yearn, you would not push me away."

"Why is it you want to be this close? Is this how elves conduct their nightly events? In the day, for all to see?" Gimli sighed, wanting to touch the elf, but knowing it was best saved for another time. His hand trembled with his indecision.

"Elves are not ashamed of who they love, especially if they find the one true mate they seek. Do Dwarves hide everything in dark caves and silence?" He laid his hand on Gimli's thigh, where it was plainly visible to anyone that glanced over.

Gimli's eyes widened as he took in Legolas' words. "Mate? Are you mad, Master Elf? We are comrades, fellow warriors. But mates?! That's preposterous."

He stood up, ignoring the hand on his thigh. He backed away from the elf, trying to restore his mental equilibrium. They could never! But now that the thought was suggested to him, he found himself mulling it over.

Even so, it would never work. "Look elsewhere for one to share your life, Legolas. It cannot be me."

Left sprawling on the floor and still looking unreasonably graceful, Legolas shivered to hear his name from the thick, cherryred lips.

"I fear the decision is not yours to make, melethon." He stretched, the argument giving him the same rush the fight earlier had.

Knowing he was making a small spectacle of himself, he sat up, knees drawn and arms around them. But Aragorn had already noticed. Without making it obvious, the Ranger was staring at them from beneath dark brows. Legolas knew he would be curious, but he found that he himself was not ready to share this, even with his friend and oncelover.

"Gimlinin, do not reject the thought so quickly. There is much I could offer you.." 

"Speak so I can understand you ! How do I know you are not insulting me?" Gimli leaned against the wall and glared at the elf. "Even if I was so inclined, it could never be. Our worlds are too different. We are too different!"

Hearing a small clatter from across the room, Gimli turned his head. And stared right into Aragorn's questioning eyes. A small growl started to rise in the dwarf's throat.

Legolas felt cold, and made himself stand, watching Aragorn walk toward them. He did not want his friend to know his folly.

To claim a Dwarf as his mate. Gimli was right, it was preposterous. Ludicrous. And, unfortunately, all too real. 

"Legolas," Aragorn said his name in that particular way he had. "There is no time for your games today." He looked them both over. "Put aside your differences once again. We who remain as the last of the Fellowship must work together, or all hope is lost."

"Of course, Aragorn." He was blushing, and knew they could see it. At least the full extent of his embarrassment wasn't understood. "Gimli and I will come to an understanding."

"Curse that elf," Gimli muttered under his breath. But to Aragorn, he nodded. "We have more urgent matters than those that distracted us. I will not let it happen again."

Aragorn nodded, and looked them over. Legolas saw the way his eyes took in everything. Estel knew elves well enough to suspect what was going on. Legolas found himself hoping his friend would let it go and not try to speak to him about it.

He was too uncomfortable with the situation at the moment, and it would only get worse if Gimli continued to deny him.

If he was rejected entirely, then he would turn to his old friend. For comfort, if possible, and solace if he could get it.

There were so many legends about what happened to elves who did not succeed with their one mates he did not want to find the truth of them.

"There are many things yet to do," Aragorn said softly. "First we will eat and discuss." His eyes on Legolas were gentle and he shivered slightly.

*  
Gimli walked behind Legolas and Aragorn into the dining hall.

What do I do with that elf, he asked himself. He wants more. . .more than I can give? He didn't want to think about that right now. He needed to concentrate on what needed to be done right here, in Edoras.

He heard Aragorn speaking to Legolas about the defenses of the town when he spied Gandalf coming around the bend in front of him.

"What must be done now, Gandalf?" He asked as the wizard came near with the King by his side.

"We must get some food, and then we will discuss our plans." Theoden replied for the wizard.

"Finally. I was beginning to wonder if we would go into battle with growling stomachs."

The wizard and two men laughed heartily at the dwarf's words. But Legolas was silent, as if pondering something.

They sat down at the long tables with metal plates and all were silent as they ate. But Gimli couldn't swallow, as the elf's pondering seemed to be intensified by staring at the Dwarf.

As he promised Aragorn no more arguments, he stayed silent, but only gazed at his food as the others ate.

Leaning with forced casualness against the pillar, Legolas watched Gimli eat, and listened to Theoden with half his attention. 

It was dangerous, to be so distracted. Dangerous and foolish. No one had ever called Legolas a fool.

Something had to be done. Right now, before this took over and his mind was closed to all else. The thought of Gimli being angry with him... he couldn't define how that made him feel.

Pushing off the pillar, with a vague plan in mind, he went to the table and grabbed the dwarf by the arm, pulling him up. He was pleased to see Gimli remember Elven strength as he didn't resist, but came unwillingly.

Leading him to a secluded spot, a niche set deep in the walls, where they could see anyone coming, Legolas let go and leaned down.

"Gimli, I must speak with you."

*  
Gimli was disturbed by the intrusion into his meal, but as he wasn't eating anyway, he let the elf lead him.

"What could you possibly say that wouldn't make matters between us worse?" Gimli crossed his arms in front of him and glared at the pontyeared annoyance.

"I seek only to say I am sorry." He swept his hair back with an irritated motion. "I do not apologize for what I said or the intention behind my words, for only the timing was in the wrong. “He waited a moment for Gimli to sort out his statement before continuing. "I would address the issue again, in a more private setting. Could we meet, later this night?"

"I suppose," Gimli agreed grudgingly. "We should try to sort this out before we go into battle or aid the town."

Gimli sighed as turned toward the table, where the men were discussing strategies. "I am sorry for my anger. The things I said to you shame me now."

"Later, then," Legolas let slide the comment about shame. He would use it when he needed it. "When I complete my tasks I will seek you out."

With no hesitation he reached out and stroked Gimli's cheek, above the beard. The skin was dark and rough, but felt like nappy leather to his hand.

"Thank you, Dwarf."

Gimli looked at the elf quizzically, but decided he was now indeed hungry. He sat down to eat. As he did so, Theoden took his place in his throne and the rescued children were brought in for a meal.

The men argued, but he realized it had already been decided. The town would head for their fortress at Helm's Deep.

So he enjoyed the food, maybe a little too much. He heard a light snicker as a burp overtook him.

He smiled slightly. Maybe this would indeed work out. There was hope in the air.

*  
Legolas trod the bowels of Edoras castle, intent upon his mission.

A part of him knew Aragorn had deliberately sent he and Gimli to separate tasks, though he wasn't sure why.

Had Aragorn seen the light in his eye when he spoke to the dwarf? Was his friend trying to protect him, or their journey? Could he be jealous? He dismissed that idea without another thought. Aragorn had been too long among the elves to feel such a petty emotion.

Which meant he had made sure they were a castle apart for another reason. To preserve the peace, perhaps.

The peace of the night was long past disturbed, as they set forth on this foolhardy trek. Still, it was better than staying put and letting the enemy's army find them here. Without proper defenses, the population vulnerable.

What a kind soul Theoden must have been, to build a castle with no walls.

Lengthening his stride, he knew he was close, to Gimli. To his one mate, whether admitted or no.

It had taken some careful badgering to work the location out of Aragorn, caught distracted. Now Legolas approached a buried armor room, where he'd likely found nothing but mice and shreds. He had no intention of wasting this time talking.

He slid through the cracked door soundlessly, and melted back to the wall, hidden in darkness.

The stuffy stone room reminded him of the worst parts of his father's home, so deep underground it was sometimes said they could hear the Dwarves digging to meet them. Not where his father could hear it, of course.

Gimli had a lantern with him. It cast only a small pool of light in what was, to Legolas' surprised eyes, a far bigger room than he'd expected. But still stuffy, so far from the open air and greenness outside. There was nothing beautiful, in this damp stone room.

Not even the Dwarf that labored in his undershirt, armor and overclothes laid aside despite the coolness. Not beautiful, even to this elf's highly biased eyes. But well made. Sturdy and strong.

He had seen trees like this, in his home forest of Mirkwood. Known trees like this,sang to them. Loved them, almost the way he would someday love this Dwarf. The beauty of a knotted trunk and twisted limbs thick with strength he could see that, in his Dwarf.

Strength of heart beyond anything he'd known. Even Frodo, with Sam by his side, could not match Gimli's steadfastness.

There were faint patches of damp on his shirt, where he had perspired. The scent came to Legolas on a slow moving wave, heating his loins.

He was behind the dwarf and wrapping his arms around him before Gimli knew he was there.

As the Dwarf felt the arms wrap around him, he startled, then jabbed with his elbow at the intruder's stomach.

The whoosh of air that came out of his sounded familiar. The blonde hair that fell around him, even more so.

The Dwarf sighed. The elf must be a glutton for punishment. Grabbing Legolas’ arms, he tried to support him while the breath came back to him. 

"Gimli! Legolas gasped, then laughed. "I will never fear for your safety, Master Dwarf, even when caught unawares."

"You instead must fear for your own, if you insist on sneaking up on me." He watched as the elf straightened up, satisfied that he was not injured. "Did you want something?"

"I want everything, dear heart," Legolas straightened, still chuckling. Then he leaned further over the dwarf, making sure to wrap his arms *over* Gimli's for his own protection. Then he nuzzled deep under the fall of thick hair, braided and clubbed back, hanging on his neck, where Legolas could suck at skin softer than he'd imagined.

Gimli struggled under the elf's mouth.

"What are you doing? I thought you wanted to talk."

Getting his mouth to an ear, Legolas breathed his reply. "I think I'm saying what I need to."

Gimli shivered as the breath vibrated in his ear. "I told you before, this is not the time."

"It is the only time we have."

"This will not solve anything. We need to talk about this." Gimli tried to free himself from the elf's embrace, but Legolas held him securely.

Gimli wondered at the determination of the elf. All this for a roll in the woods?

"There is no problem to be solved. If we find pleasure in each other's touch, this is not a problem." Legolas ran his hands down Gimli's front, seeking something harder to touch.

"Will you stop?!" Gimli finally wrenched away from the elf, and turned and glared at him in the lamplight. "Why do you insist on doing this?"

"Because I need to," Legolas sighed, and held out a hand. In the flickering light, he thought it trembled. "Gimli. Do not deny me. This small thing."

Gimli became concerned as he saw the elf pale in the dim light. But he convinced himself that Legolas was doing it to himself.

Smiling gently, lest he warn Gimli of his enthusiasm for the idea, Legolas allowed himself to be led through the hall. He was pleased Gimli didn't remove his hand, and that he didn't seem to be worried someone might see them.

When Gimli reached the hallway where the rooms were, he paused. Glancing into each of the two rooms, he saw that Legolas received the bigger bed. Just as he was about to head into the room, Aragorn came around the corner.

"Gimli! Legolas! The plans have been made for our departure."

Gimli could see the ranger look at his hand clasped with the elf's. Aragorn glanced at Legolas with a raised eyebrow.

"That is good, Estel. Could you see that we are not disturbed until the appointed time? Our tasks are completed..." He tightened his hand on Gimli's, not wanting the Dwarf to pull away.

Aragorn grinned at the elf. "I will make sure you are not bothered. Just make sure you two get enough rest." He walked off past them as Gimli grumbled under his breath.

Once he was gone, Gimli looked up at the elf. "Why did you tell him? Won't he become jealous?"

Leaning over him, Legolas breathed deeply. Could Gimli smell how aroused he was, the way Legolas could smell him? 

"I explained my relationship with Aragorn to you. If you are going to become jealous, I'd like to know in advance." He grinned, a rare expression, and ducked his head to press a quick kiss to Gimli's furrowed brow. "I'd like to enjoy it as much as I can!"

"No elf, I'm not jealous. I was just worried that I'd have a ranger's sword at my throat." Gimli pulled Legolas into the room, distracted. There is so much to worry about tomorrow.

Should we really be doing this?

*  
Feeling Gimli's hesitation, Legolas shut the door behind them, making sure the latch caught. Still holding his hand, the elf ran his own free hand down his chest, from neck to navel, a long, slow stroke.

He felt the tiny fine hairs on his skin rise. He would not be turned away now.

Gimli shivered as he watched the elf's motions. 

He is too good at this, the dwarf thought. Deciding that he needed this more than he needed to worry about tomorrow, he grabbed the elf's hands and pulled them down. 

"Let me." Gimli's fingers slowly followed the trails he watched the elf's hand take.

His lips followed the trail until he felt the elf gasp. Moving his hands lower as his lips trailed behind, he skimmed the top of Legolas' breeches.

Sucking in a breath, his stomach tightening, Legolas let this weight rest on the door behind him. He spread his legs slightly, hoping to encourage Gimli's attention downward.

His hands wandered over the Dwarf's head, molding it, then slipping under the heaviness of it in back to work it loose.

"Gimli, melethon-nin, please..." his whisper was loud in the silent stone room. No fire was lit, so it was cool. His skin tingled.

As the elf slipped a little lower down, the Dwarf moved to mold their lips together. He pushed his bare chest against Legolas', causing the heat to rise between him. He laughed as something began to poke at him. "Your tool wants out of those breeches, Master Elf." The friction of their bodies moving caused shots of lightning across Gimli's skin. He felt his body sway under the onslaught.

Too much has happened this day. 

Feeling his lover's sudden exhaustion, Legolas was quick to move; tasking control of the situation, he backed them both to the bed and let Gimli fall back on it.

Climbing on top of him, laying down knowing the sturdy form could take his weight, he just held onto the dwarf for a moment.

"Indeed," he said softly, " I do wish to bare myself to you, in all ways, master dwarf. Let me give you a taste of that this night."

Gimli fingered the elf's silky hair as he gazed into the sparkling eyes. "You give me more than I know what to do with, Master Elf. But in return, I'll give you all I can in return, my passion, my body." Pulling on the locks he was holding, he dragged the elf down so he could lick at a pointed ear.

As he did so, their erections began to rub together. "And of course, my drill."

Though he was exactly where he wanted to be, Legolas felt mildly uncomfortable at Gimli's words, promising him things he wasn't yet sure he was going to have.

He grabbed Gimli's teasing hands and forced them out to the side, trying to hold the dwarf still while he clamped on with his knees.

"Everything, Gimli? You'll have to get free first," he teased, his eyes darkening.

Gimli shook his head, grinning. "It takes strength to lift the heavy rocks in the mines. I should have no problem with a skinny elf." Gimli lifted his legs and began to raise Legolas' body off the bed. 

When the elf was raised all the way, the dwarf let his legs drop swiftly, knocking the elf off and giving the dwarf a second to scramble free. In that moment of confusion, he launched himself on top of Legolas, laughing.

"Now I am free, so now I shall take what I want from you." Still snickering, the dwarf launched himself on the dishelved elf. 

"And what do you want, Gimli-nin," Legolas stretched slowly, relaxing under him, welcoming. "What can this homely elf give you?" 

Gimli looked down at the elf below him, smiling broadly. "All that this most handsome of dwarves could ever need..." 

Using his beard, Gimli tickled Legolas' chest, making him squirm. The dwarf held down the strong arm reaching for him and trailed his beard down Legolas' abdomen. 

As the dwarf watched Legolas arch and wriggle, he realized what he had just said. I can't be his mate! He's going to think I accepted his proposal. 

But in the heat of the moment, Gimli wondered if he really needed any more than this. He wasn't sure anymore. His thoughts distracted him, making him lose sight of the elf, his own arousal, even his concerns for the dawn. 

His brow furrowed and he shook his head, trying to bring his attention back to the present. He could see the elf gazing at him, concerned. 

"I am sorry, it is not you." He lied and did not at the same time. The elf was the problem, but it was Gimli himself who had done wrong this time. He did not want to offer the elf something he could not give. 

Trying to focus on Gimli's words and not the feel of his hands on his body, Legolas took a minute to register what was happening. Freeing his arms, he reached for the dwarf and pulled him down. 

"There is nothing but you and me in this moment, Gimli, son of Gloin. Do not carry sorrow. Do not concern yourself with the meaning of words spoken in passion, or the fears of the future." 

He kissed him, tasting the meat and mead of dinner. "Just this, and us." He spread his legs wider and arched provocatively under the heavy body, and reminded himself to keep his own words light. "It has been many years since anyone ventured down this path. Are you an explorer at heart?" 

Legolas' words and actions had the desired effect, bringing Gimli back to the feast displayed below him. "Exploring is second nature to a dwarf. And there is much to explore here." 

Suiting actions to words, Gimli moved his lips on the skin his beard had touched. He licked at the small, pert nipples, making them tighten even further, and moved south slowly, delighting in the small jumps and gasps beneath him. 

Legolas grabbed Gimli's head in both hands and pressed his mouth to his own bare chest, encouraging him to do more. "Melethon-nin, yes...." he sighed hungrily. 

"Gold and jewels are nothing when compared to your skin. You glow, my friend." Gimli swiped his tongue over the elf's ribs and lower, smelling the earthy scent of his arousal. Taking Legolas' shaft gently in his hands, he buried his nose underneath, inhaling. "Shall I explore your cave, Legolas? My drill wants to find your treasures." 

Shuddering from the sensation of Gimli talking so close to his genitals, Legolas reached across the bed. Earlier, when shown the room, he'd hidden a small pot of oil at the top of the headboard. He'd meant for this to happen, even if he had to track Gimli down and seduce him. 

"There are treasures yet to find, dwarf," he mumbled as he retrieved the pot and held it out blindly, body shifting restlessly on the bed. "Grease your drill and seek them." 

Gimli looked up at the elf's face as he grabbed the pot. I've done this to him. I've made Legolas lose that stubborn control of his. 

The dwarf stopped in awe for a minute before coating himself with the oil. He floundered, wondering if he should roll Legolas on his stomach. But no, he wanted to see the elf's face. He had had enough of hiding this act in shadows. But he had never done this before with an elf. He wanted this to be better than those gropes in the dark in his past, even if he could not give Legolas everything he asked for. "Help me, Master Elf. I do not want to hurt you." 

"You could start with using my name, Gimli," Legolas laughed breathlessly. Arching his back higher, he stretched his legs over Gimli's shoulders, knowing they were strong enough to bear any burden he could place there. The movement put his entrance at a good height for the dwarf and he twisted his hips slowly. "Can you find your way from here?" 

Gimli wrapped his arms around the elf's thighs to steady himself. "Yes, Legolas, that will do." 

Thrusting forward, the dwarf sank into the invitingly hot chamber. Looking into the Legolas' eyes, he hoped that he hadn't crossed the line of elvish culture by doing this. He loved the tight feeling around him, but for a moment he was scared. What if this was akin to mating to elves? Did Legolas trick him into a commitment? 

Feeling Gimli stiffen, Legolas tried to open his eyes and reassure him, but the pressure was too intense. It had been too long since he did this. He thought the dwarf was anxious, because of what they did. He hoped he would get over it soon and get on with it. Legolas' body cried out to be possesed, to be taken. 

"Do not go gently, Gimli-nin!" he groaned, using his hands to urge movement. "I am here -- take me!" 

Laying his fears to rest for the moment, Gimli started to move within the elf. Copying what he remembered of Legolas' technique, he started slowly, smoothly. He found himself being jolted by pleasure as he stroked in, a jolt that seemed instantly to flow through the elf as well. As he gathered a rhythm, he smiled at the glowing eyes in front of him. "A jeweled cave, indeed." 

As his soul seemed to expand, filled by Gimli's possession, Legolas began to return the sentiment in kind. 

"Indeed," he managed to gasp as he arched off the bed and he strained for deeper contact, "- a sharper drill... ah, Gimli!"  
He lapsed into his own language, the words aching in his heart. "Im baur sen, im baur bronwe, mil-nin, gur-nin (I need this, I need faith, my love, my soul.)" 

His hands traveled feverishly over the dwarf, mapping the muscled planes of his back, testing the firmness of his skin and the thickness of the hair he was learning to love. 

Gimli heard the elf only vaguely, as he was entranced by the writhing body attached to him. His body insisted he speed up, and as he did, Legolas moaned and arched, nearly throwing the dwarf away from him. I do that to him? How is it I have missed this, this very diamond? 

Gimli grabbed at Legolas' hands, trying to calm the elf slightly before he ended up on the floor. But when the long fingers wrapped around his, he felt. . .a connection. Legolas' eyes bored into the dwarf's as his hands tightened. Gimli realized that the elf's only focus was on him. This was so very different from what he knew before, and as he was in control here, he could use it as he willed. 

So he focused himself on Legolas as if he was extracting a jewel from a awkward crevice. Slow, careful thrusts, caresses on his abdomen, through his hair, on his pointed ears. He watched every reaction to his every move, focusing on the elf's pleasure, even to the point of ignoring his own. 

With every gasp and moan from the elf's mouth, Gimli's wonder grew. It was as if he could do no wrong. Every caress was absorbed wholeheartedly by the shuddering skin, every thrust produced a cry. He shook off his own pleasure. It meant nothing compared to the spectacle before his eyes. 

Sweat glued the elf's hair to his shoulders, pleasure made his eyes wild. He looked entranced. . .as if by the One Ring. But no, there was no evil here. Only a trust in a companion, trust so complete that Gimli gasped at the realization. 

His body stretched tight, Legolas felt the wave rise in him as never before. He wanted, he *needed*, to touch himself and bring an end to this. It was too much-- especially knowing that Gimli did not experience what he did. Suddenly it was bittersweet and almost painful. 

He mumbled softly as he gasped, the words unclear to the dwarf. Long, slender hands that gripped with amazing strength slid around from Gimli's buttocks to Legolas' own groin, where they rested quiescent for a moment, as if he was thinking. The tension in his body didn't ease; if anything, it increased. 

Gimli watched as the elf's eyes dulled slightly. Suddenly, Gimli was reminded of those gropes in the dark he used to have. I hurt him, somehow. The tension in the dwarf's body was no longer pleasant, it was the stiffbacked tension of an alert warrior. But Gimli was out of his element. He couldn't fathom why the elf seemed less pliant, and almost..wounded. 

He had done all that he could think of to please Legolas, and yet he stumbled. The diamond was shattering before his very eyes. But no, he could please his friend, he had seen it before. This wasn't about him, he supposed. The elf wanted too much. He wanted a mate, but Gimli was content with this moment in time. 

So the dwarf resumed his thrusting, whispering, "I can give you this, my friend. I would not see you deny this pleasure for something that does not exist." 

Hearing the words, feeling the movement, Legolas moved his hand, just enough to hold himself, pressing his arrow to his stomach though he did no more. "Yes, melethon-nin," he whispered. "This is pleasure indeed..." 

Without asking, Gimli gently moved the smooth hand away from the shaft. He wrapped his fingers so that his rough hand touched the most sensitive spots. The other hand found its way to the elf's hip, to help the dwarf move in rhythm with his own hand. 

Gimli sighed contentedly as Legolas seemed to lose at least some of his sadness and resumed his writhing. Watching the elf caused his own control to loosen. Soon he found himself thrusting deeper and harder, and growling, aiming to uncover every last jolt of pleasure. Somehow, he didn't lose sight of Legolas' pleasure, and continued to pull his rod, pulling moans and gasps from the elf as he did. 

The dwarf went deeper, deeper into Legolas and he found himself rising to meet each thrust. Wanting him inside, as far as he could get him. The noises, the growling -- the stocky, strong hand on him, it all coalesced suddenly, shockingly. 

Legolas lost his breath in the fire of it, giving his body to Gimli as he wished to give his heart. Panting, he rode the end, watching his dwarf with half-closed eyes, needing his seed inside almost as badly as he needed his heart. 

The feeling of Legolas' quivering, sweaty body released Gimli's mind somehow. The thrusts came easier, quicker. The pleasure roared in his ears. . .or was that his own voice? With the roar, pleasure bolted through him one last time. He buried himself into the elf, and gave up his seed, gasping. 

Gimli fell on his side as he regained his breath. His heart's pounding, although good when joined with Legolas, began to take on an ominous quality. It was no longer in sync with the passion of the elf, but now seemed to run away as Gimli saw his face. Legolas' face was blank, bordering on cold. The dwarf shivered. This is what I do to him? Does a commitment mean that much to him? 

Gimli turned his face away from the sight of the elf, unable to bear the guilt that it caused. Feeling his body weighed down as if by a cave troll, he slowly moved to get up. 

Gimli moved away from him and Legolas mourned the loss. He suspected he was responsible for it, though, so he couldn't vilify his lover. In the seconds after orgasm, hearing and feeling Gimli's response to him, all he'd been able to think about -- as much as he could think, enjoying it so much -- was that this might be the last time. Gimli could leave him at any time, go off and find a grumpy dwarf woman, search under her beard for lips to kiss. The pain in his heart had been surprising. 

Unable to show it, unwilling to begin another conversation that would end in rejection, he retreated into the unemotional calm that allowed his kind to survive the millenia. 

It was clear now that Gimli hadn't taken it well. 

Gimli looked back at the bed as he felt around for his breeches. "We need to get some rest. I should go to my own room, let you sleep, or whatever it is elves do when they rest." 

"This bed is large enough for two," Legolas said after a moment. "It would be warmer with both of us in it." He didn't move or make any other invitation, only held his breath and hoped Gimli would accept this one. 

Gimli was startled to hear Legolas actually asking him to stay. He was silent a moment as he put on his breeches, not wanting to torture himself and Legolas by sleeping here tonight, but knowing his leaving would hurt the elf. Deciding he could withstand any torture except for the guilt, the dwarf climbed back into the bed and laid flat on the mattress. 

"Would you like me to put out the candle?" Gimli turned his head to stare at the flickering light. Minutes ago it was an aid to his pleasure, but now it only illuminated the tension in the room. He watched as the elf leaned over and snuffed the candle himself rather than speak. 

Contrary to the laws of Nature, it was colder in here now than it had been when they arrived. When Gimli was settled, the elf reached down and pulled up the rough blanket to cover them both. In the darkness he lay quiet, listening as the dwarf's heart began to slow from its hammering pace. 

Perhaps later, after the dwarf slept, he could slip over and be close. When it would not be noticed.


	3. Fire in Helm's Deep

Gimli watched as Eowyn, Theoden's niece wandered among the traveling group, trying to keep everyone's spirits high. 

Poor girl, she had quite a bit on those slender shoulders. As the girl came to talk to Aragorn, Gimli glanced at Legolas. The stubborn elf had been quietly exasperating this morning as they had prepared for the journey. Respectful, almost too respectful, as if he was a maiden trying to snare a mate. Knowing the elf was in earshot, Gimli gestured to the pretty woman. 

"How are you holding up, lass? Are your people strong enough for this journey?"

Eowyn smiled. "We are well and strong together, Sir Dwarf. How are you? Don't you miss your people? And perhaps a wife? Do dwarves take wives?"

"Yes, my dear, dwarves have wives." But I will not have a stubborn blond elf as my wife, Gimli thought. Glancing again at the subject of his thoughts, he continued. "I'm not surprised you asked this. It's true you don't see many dwarf women. And in fact, they are so alike in voice and appearance, they are often mistaken for dwarf men."

He did not miss Aragorn's quiet comment. "It's the beards," but continued stoutly.

“And this in turn has given rise to the belief that there are no dwarf women. And the dwarves just spring out of holes in the ground!” 

*  
Walking toward the front of the line, Legolas listened as his one mate tried to make it sound like every dwarf found a wife. He knew differently, from his father's stories. But Gimli was probably trying to speak to him through this conversation, and Legolas was not amused.

After their night of loving, he'd wanted more from the Dwarf this morning. Knowing he would not get it, he'd retreated to a quiet sort of distance that allowed him to deal with the situation without feeling too much pain. Pain was for later, if Gimli insisted on keeping them apart.

He tried not to listen to Gimli’s attempts to charm the woman.

*  
“Which is of course ridiculous. Whoa!” 

Caught off-guard, the Dwarf tumbled to the ground as his horse startled, no doubt kicked in the wrong place once too often.

“It's alright! It's alright. Nobody panic. That was deliberate. It was deliberate.”

/Infernal horse', Gimli thought. /Dwarves are not meant to be so high up./ Looking at Aragorn's smirking face, he hoped not too many people noticed his lack of grace.

Watching the dwarf as he miscued the horse and dropped to the ground like a stone -- a loud, embarrassing, gesticulating stone -- Legolas closed his eyes for a moment as the pain in his heart leapt. The laughter of the people was like salt in a wound. He did not begrudge his mate his true nature. Indeed, he embraced Gimli's warrior mind, his heavy stature and brash manners. This tomfoolery gnawed at him, knowing he was the cause. He had presented the dwarf with something he could not or would not understand, and now he acted out of character to remind Legolas of what could not be.

With a quick twist of his head, Legolas strode away, to the front of the line and past. He would not stay and watch Gimli play the fool for the benefit of that woman. 

Gimli sighed as he saw Legolas stride past him. The elf did not understand his humor, that much was obvious. Gimli did not intend to make Legolas angry, but the tension between them was so heavy right now. And over something that could not be! 

It was ridiculous.

So he found a way to laugh. At least Aragorn appreciated his sense of humor. Gimli watched as the two humans moved further toward the front of the group. They seemed too close for people who barely knew each other. But you could never tell with Men. 

He wondered if Arwen would be fierce against the pretty girl if she found out how much time she was spending with the Evenstar's betrothed. Shaking his head against the thought, he decided that elves were sometimes more trouble than they were worth. 

The dwarf decided time was better spent discussing food with the butcher who had moved up beside him.

*  
Turning his back on the dwarf, physically and mentally, Legolas took it upon himself to scout further ahead. The Men were laughing, some even singing. He approved of such methods to keep their spirits high, but after what he'd seen in Theoden's home he would not be singing himself. Until the One Ring was destroyed and Sauron's evil defeated, there would be no song in his heart. Even with his chosen mate so near, he felt only darkness. A beautiful day in the open, a mission of importance, and all he felt was dread. 

He told himself that this was why he did not raise his voice in song. It had nothing to do with the fact that his future was going to be long and lonely. Nothing at all. 

Gimli watched Legolas go further in front of him. Was the elf regretting their time together, the new friendship, the intimate moments? The dwarf found that he had no regrets save those that caused the elf's eyes to flash in anger or pain. And he seemed to have a lot of those moments lately. But he didn't know how to be what Legolas wanted or how to get the elf to see things his way. 

He sighed as the sun caught the golden locks, shining a dull light at him. We have to work together, for the sake of Theoden's people. But after that, there may be nothing left for us to share. Far past Gimli, out beyond the start of the line, Legolas watched the sky. he knew his eyes to be as sharp as a hawk's, and this was his duty. Not hanging back to ogle a dwarf -- a dwarf that couldn't begin to understand the honor offered him!

He could be the only dwarf mated with an elf!

Mate to Legolas Greenleaf, son of Thranduil, third in line to the throne of Greenwood!

And he said no. He pulled away and left Legolas alone, to suffer in silence.

Sinking deeper into his foul mood, the elf only looked when two of the riders -- Men, and what use were they? -- went past him, their expressions urgent. These thoughts would do him no good, but even he was allowed despair. Pray that it didn't last long, it was far too soon to fall into it, but he allowed himself these few moments to wallow. It eased the pain, though that relief was fleeting. The line continued to move and he stood his ground as they got closer. After a minute or two he pulled his thoughts back from the anger and pain he was feeling and focused again on the world before him, and the reality of this mission.

Narrowing his eyes, he realized the riders had not returned. Something was wrong. Without doubt, he lifted his heart and ran in the direction they had gone. Over one small hill and he heard sounds of battle and the screams of horses. He felt Aragorn following, only a short way behind him. 

A sense of fellowship and well-being filled him. They were meant to fight together, he and him.

Cresting the rise, he saw the riders, one down, and some creature, ridden by a troll!

It was less than the time of thought to fit an arrow and fire as he ran.

The beast was down, its rider on the ground -- he got there just in time to slit its throat.

“What is it?!" Aragorn asked tensely, just arriving. His eyes searched the vista before him.

"A scout!" Legolas snarled. Aragorn turned and ran to warn the others, in almost the same instant Legolas ran the opposite way. His eyes sought the high ground, he needed -- yes, a vantage point, an outcropping. Topping it, he caught himself like a bird in flight, balanced.

Gimli stopped midsentence in his explanation of dwarven mines to a carpenter as he spied Aragorn coming down the hill.

"We're under attack!" were the last words the dwarf expected to hear. This trip was supposed to be uneventful. Nobody outside the castle grounds knew they were going to Helm's Deep. . .but Saruman had eyes everywhere.

Scrambling to find a place to defend the group, Gimli barely heard the King shout "All riders to the head of the column!"

The horse! The dwarf pulled on the reins in his hand and grabbed the man next to him. "Come on get me up there, I'm a rider!"

Somehow he mounted the horse quickly. As he moved to the front, he wondered where Legolas was. 

The elf was probably facing the enemy down at the moment. That both thrilled and scared Gimli. Thrilled because he knew Legolas could do much to defend the townspeople. Scared because, well, anything could happen, and the last exchange between them was almost hostile. 

He did not want to lose the elf now. His thoughts moved to the people surrounding him reluctantly, as Theoden shouted "Come on, follow me!." 

The Wargs poured over the hill in a flood of grotesque evil. Poised on his hilltop, Legolas waited motionless until they were within range.

He was still inside, gathering himself in that place of peace in his mind. Where nothing existed but the arrow and the bow.

He drew the first, and shot.

Arrow after arrow, his aim was true. He heard the thunder of horses behind him, knew help was coming. The wargs were almost upon him. 

Closer...closer...

Still he fired.

Gimli wondered why he ever agreed to this. Dwarves were not meant to be on horses. Everyone was racing after Theoden, while he was struggling to get his horse to move forward, instead of backward. "Whoa!"

Then inspiration struck him. Elves and horses went together, very well. 

“Let's go find the elf." And suddenly, the horse raced forward.

Help was coming, Gimli would be among them. A part of Legolas wanted to turn and look, to reassure himself his future mate was safe, but he didn't twitch. 

His body was still, only his arms and eyes moving as he held himself in that place inside. Where the arrows came from.

Shoot, he told himself silently. Shoot. Gimli would find him when it was time. 

*  
Gimli crested the hill, amazed that he had stayed on the horse the minute or two it took to reach the elf. Legolas was firing, killing wargs with an accuracy that was frightening.

But just as he reached the elf, he stopped and reached for the horse's reins, swinging himself up behind Gimli as easily as if he were a feather. Gimli's amazement, however, was put on hold as the wargs advanced on them. 

There he was. Without looking Legolas knew Gimli was there. He felt the dwarf's presence, knew the fall of that horse's hooves even in this din. The monsters were almost upon him. Believing Gimli would be ready, Legolas shot one last arrow, and took the half-second to watch it find its mark, then turned toward the feeling in his heart. 

Fingers on harness, using the horse's momentum, he swung under the wide neck and into the air, landing behind Gimli like he was meant to be there. Which he was, naturally. Worried about Gimli's stability, Legolas held his bow in one hand and reached around the dwarf with the other, grabbing for the reins. Silently he urged the horse forward with the others.

The battle was joined. 

*  
Gimli tried to stay put as Legolas drew his arrow and fired on the warg in front of him. But as the horse galloped, his balanced shifted to the left. In the next moment, he found himself on the ground, facing a warg. 

Controlling the horse with hand and heel, Legolas was focused on closing with the enemy, his warrior spirit rising. He must have put the horse downhill too fast on the turn, because Gimli slid off almost without notice, landing on the near ground with a grumble Legolas heard as he tried to keep the animal up. A few strides away, to regain balance and find space to whirl, and there was his mate, standing his ground, axe held high as a warg stalked him. 

Startled by his position, Gimli quickly jumped up and drew his axe. What an ugly, dumb creature. He had seen smarter moles.

"Bring your pretty face to my axe." Gimli yelled as he faced the warg with weapon ready.

Without thinking, Legolas drew and fired at the monster. As soon as the arrow left his bow he knew he'd made a mistake; Gimli would not take the assistance gently. The dwarf's pride was a prickly thing. He only waited long enough to see he was well before turning his mount into the thick of the battle.

"That one counts as mine!" Gimli fumed at the elf for wasting his time defending him, when he could well enough himself.

But as he fought, slashing his axe through the orcs and wargs, he soon found himself underneath the smelly carcasses. How'd this happen, asked himself. How do I get out of this? Trying to squirm from underneath the carcasses did little. 

*  
Legolas’ time-sense slipped and the next time he looked for Gimli, the situation was worse; now there were two dead warg atop him. Deciding discretion was not the better part of valor in this case, he risked his mate's anger to go to his rescue.

"Gimli!

With a leap and a bounce he was on top of the warg-pile. Gimli's groan was audible over the sounds of clashing blades and angry growls."Shall I leave you here to handle the situation, or shall I give you a hand?" Landing lightly beside the dwarf's head, Legolas couldn't help but grin. The dwarf looked so... cute. 

"Why'd you have stand up there, you stupid elf?" Gimli groaned as his ribs protested the air he brought in to speak. The dwarf looked at the most exasperating part of his life closely, and saw worry troubling those beautiful eyes. Gimli figured it was time to let the elf have his way for once. 

"Get these damned smelly carcasses off me before I can't breathe." 

"Your wish is my command, oh grumpy one." With some mild effort Legolas pulled off first the topmost warg, grimacing at the stench, and then the skewered orc.

Gimli threw the bottom warg off before Legolas could reach it.

"Yuck! I've seen better smelling swamps."

"Bathed in them as well, Master Dwarf?" Legolas held out a hand to help him up. The battle receded in his mind, all of him focused on the thought of touching his mate even so innocently.

Gimli grabbed it, wondering if he was inviting trouble. "No more than you." 

He smiled.

The battle regained Legolas’ attention with a lurch; they were winning, but only just. Instead of grabbing Gimli and pulling him close, the elf gave him a look he knew the Dwarf would read correctly, then dashed across the hill to finish off the stragglers.

Gimli sighed at the look that flashed on the elf's face. What am I to do with him? 

The battle ended suddenly; Legolas turned around as an orc dropped at his feet, and there was no one left to fight. He scanned the scene, sharp eyes marking those he valued most. Gimli stood where he left him, another dead warg beside him, his axe buried in its thick skull. Theoden was straightening, his face flushed with effort, his features hard and tight. Resolute.

Aragorn....

Legolas tensed, sweeping his gaze over all he could see, so much more than the Men.

Where was Aragorn?

"Aragorn!" he shouted, refusing to become worried. The Ranger had survived worse fights. 

"Aragorn?"

The others looked as well, and some took up the call. Gimli's rough voice brought second of peace to Legolas' heart, but his friend did not answer.

Gimli followed Legolas' movements, hoping the elf would find the king of Gondor. Instead, he heard a laugh as the elf bent to inspect a body. 

Following the sound, Gimli beheld a wounded orc.

Knowing the orc knew something, he probed. "Tell me what you know, and I will ease your passing."

"He's dead," The orc replied. "He took a little tumble off the cliff."

Hearing the words, Legolas shoved past Gimli and grabbed the foul beast. 

"You lie!" he snarled, shaking him violently. It was too much for the orc; he gave up his life. Wanting it to admit the lie, Legolas grabbed at its hands; something cool and hard slipped through the fingers. The Evenstar glowed lightly as he touched it.

Gimli watched as a troubled Legolas joined King Theoden at the edge of the cliff.

I can't leave him like this. The dwarf followed swiftly. Wanting to touch the elf, but afraid to, he looked into the waters below. 

I hope Aragorn's death was swift. 

Aware of Gimli beside him, Legolas ignored the Dwarf as he turned away. 

His emotions were too turbulent, the shock too raw. He couldn't accept this. 

Would not.

If Gimli spoke to him, said the wrong thing, Legolas didn't know what he'd do. 

So he turned and walked away from the warrior that held his heart, as Gimli had sometimes walked away from him. 

"He will be missed." Gimli sighed at the retreating back and shed a few tears for the lost king.

He followed Legolas silently, staying back and giving the elf the space he deserved. 

*  
Helm's Deep was huge and grey, stone and closed. Legolas rode into it with a barely-hidden shudder.

He left his horse with the others, sliding between the soldiers and farmers, wishing only to be alone with this pain.

Aragorn could not be dead. He would return to them.

The Evenstar was clutched in his fist.

He would keep it safe until Aragorn returned.

Behind him he heard Gimli stop and speak to the silly woman, Eowyn. She fancied herself in love with Aragorn. The foolishness of mortals still caught him unawares.

He paused as Gimli spoke. The Dwarf did not know better than to believe the proof of his eyes.

Would that he believed it in other areas as well.

Refusing to seek comfort where he feared none would be give, Legolas vanished into the unpleasant depths of the stone keep.

Gimli gazed at Legolas' back. This was becoming a habit, one that he did not like.

He turned back to Eowyn, but seeing she was looking to her uncle for comfort, he sighed.

What do I do? Any other time, he might have turned to Aragorn to give him a clue as to how to get through to the stubborn elf. This time, he didn't have that choice. So instead, he took a chance. 

Moving into the fortress, he called. "Legolas!" 

The echo of Gimli's call followed the Elf as he searched for a place to hide with his pain, and his hope.

He paused, wondering. Did he dare let the Dwarf find him? If it was another rejection Gimli planned, Legolas didn't think he could bear it.

To listen to Gimli's attempt at comfort when all he wanted was his rough touch - it would be agony upon agony.

But to not take the chance that the Dwarf meant to give more...He could not do it.

"I'm here, Gimli," he called back, sinking into a cleft in the wall, cold and hard and unliving. 

*  
"I am here." Gimli found Legolas slumped against a recessed arch in the wall. Not sure if gentleness was the right technique, Gimli opted for ruffling a few feathers with it.

"I'm worried about you, elf. What would your kin say if they saw you like this?"

"They would call me a fool, for I am!" Legolas snapped. He told himself he had not expected any different. Gimli was true to himself. A fool to love a dwarf, so different from himself.

A fool to expect a dwarf to understand what it meant, to be loved by an Elf. 

Gimli was pleased by the color that flushed the elf's face, but worried about his stability. 

"You are no fool, my friend. But if you don't leave your mourning quickly, we could all be dead. You're not alone, Legolas. What can I do?" 

Turning his head away, Legolas pressed his hands to the cold stone. There was no comfort there; the stone was an unresponsive as the dwarf's heart.

"There is nothing you can do, Master Dwarf. Return to the others and leave me to my grief. I would not have you displeased with my neediness yet again." 

"I'd be a fool myself if I were to leave you now. You call me mate, you say that will not change whether I accept or not. Let me be mate or friend or whatever it takes to move on." Gimli grabbed the elf's hand in a tight grip. "We have lost too many. I would not lose you, too, if I have my say." 

"He is not lost!" 

Rising from the nook, Legolas shouted at Gimli. "Aragorn cannot be lost, for is he is Middle Earth is lost as well!"

He stared at Gimli's hand, so strong as it held his. His own fingers clenched, tightening on that hand. A connection to hope, the possibility of happiness.

"You are my mate, Gimli, whether you wish it or not. That will never change; you must decide which you want to be."

He waited for an answer, eyes closed. There were no tress for him to listen to, not now.

Gimli sighed and looked up at the elf for what felt like an eternity. His thoughts went back to the previous days and months, where they had loved, fought, and loved again. Always there were others before. He was never solely responsible for making their relationship work. But now there was only the two of them. 

Legolas needed him.

And if he were to be true to himself, he needed Legolas. To hold, to advise, to fight, to. . .well, be there for. But he was not good at relationships. He could not guarantee success.

"I will try to be your mate, Master Elf," he said quietly. 

This second shock was more powerful than the first. If a horse had kicked him, Legolas doubted he'd have felt it more.

"Try..." he whispered. "How do you try, Gimli? Tell me, my one-love, how can you simply try to accomplish what already is?"

Gimli turned away, trying to keep his composure. The look on Legolas' face. It was as if the elf did not trust him.

"I do not know much in matters of the heart, Prince. I fear I cannot do what you'll ask of me."

The dwarf leaned heavily on the ornate arch around the recess. 

"But I will try." 

“I have never asked more," Legolas whispered. Though he was shaking inside, the combination of hope and need and want and worry almost too much to contain, he leaned forward slowly.

His eyes opened when he was only inches from Gimli's face. Breathing over the plump ruby lips, he paused to savor the moment. 

Gimli slowly looked up at the elf with tears streaming down his face. 

"You have never been this alone. I fear, elf, that you will regret this." 

"I swear, Dwarf, that I will never." Moved beyond words by Gimli's tears, Legolas tasted them as he kissed the Dwarf. It was hard to restrain himself, but this wasn't the time or place. He would not wait long to find both, but he would wait. Briefly. 

Gimli was afraid to move as Legolas' lips met his. The dwarf feared passion would remind them both too much of the last time, the pain, the awkwardness. But to pull away, well, he could not. He wasn't sure he wanted to. And he knew Legolas needed comfort, and a warm body was comforting, was it not?

So he waited for the kiss to end, then turned away to wipe his tears away silently. "I can hope."

Slender hands caught him, holding gently and with love.

*  
"You cannot turn away from me now, Gimli. You have accepted my troth, there is no reason to leave. If you fear -" Legolas stumbled on the words. He'd had too many jolts to his system this day. "If you fear for your independence, I will not need you beside me always. We need not be attached at the hip like an old married couple. Your freedom is as dear to me as your independent spirit and I would rob you of neither."

He held onto Gimli, wanting to hold him closer. He felt he would not be rejected, but it felt important that Gimli come to him on his own. What was this? The elf wanted him, but did not want him with him? If that was the way it had to be. 

"I will not burden you with my constant presence. But tell me when you want me and I will be there."

Gimli froze in Legolas' arms, afraid to move closer, and not wanting to move away. Best to get back to the topic at hand. 

"What can I do to make your grief easier, Legolas? I have accepted your proposal, but that alone cannot be enough?"

"This is enough, for now, Gimli." Thankfully Legolas sank to his knees. The floor was as cold and hard as the walls. Like the grief that would swallow him whole. 

No. He had to believe. Aragorn could not die this way. He pulled Gimli close, molding himself to the dwarf's back, wrapping his arms around him. With his head on Gimli's sturdy shoulder he felt better. To have his mate close, willingly and acknowledging him... it was more than enough.

"Just be here and I will try not to need you too much." 

Gimli closed his eyes to fight the thoughts circling his mind. He needs me. But does he want me? My want for independence, bah, my independence comes from the strength of the ones around me. But if he only wants me some of the time. . .

Gimli shuddered at the pain this thought caused, despite his attempt at controlling it. Sighing, he resolved to give Legolas what he wanted. But he knew he would suffer for it.

*  
Legolas heard Gimli's sigh and wondered at the cause of it. Too engaged in the close contact to think more on it, he let his worry pass and concentrated on holding his mate, now his mate in truth. They would come together again and make it physically real, but he was happy with this much.

"Be still, my heart," he whispered. "Let me take this comfort of you and give it in return if I can. Sit with me here and make this cold place warm."

He began to turn Gimli around, intending for them to sit together, under his cloak, where they would be hidden and private and warm.

Together. Gimli turned around as the elf's hands bade him. The downturn of Legolas' pretty mouth pulled his pain forward, out of him.

"What do you want of me? Am I to comfort you now and leave you on the morrow? Can you bear me for only a short time? Tell me now so I can prepare myself for the knife thrust at dawn." Drawing Gimli beneath the cloak, Legolas' heart shivered at his words.

"You would leave me, having promised yourself to me? I seek only to free you, Master Dwarf. Should you ever grow tired of my company... Given my wish you would be at my side always." 

His hands wandered over the sturdy body, tenderly, but shaking with need. 

A shiver passed through Gimli. From the cold leaving him or from his turmoil starting to look less gloomy, he did not know.

"I thought you wanted your freedom." His hands reached tentatively towards the elf's smooth cheek. As he did so, he noticed Legolas' eyes lighten considerably. 

Relief flooded Legolas, easing the tightness of his chest. He sat back into the wall, pulling Gimli with him until the dwarf straddled his legs. They were covered head-to-toe. He breathed deep the scent of his mate, soon to be so in flesh as well as spirit. Nuzzling under the thick beard, he closed his eyes and rested there, hands resting on a round ass, soul resting in a trusted heart.

He knew now that Aragorn would return, and believing it was simple. 

"Ah, you stupid elf." Gimli breathed into Legolas' shoulder. "If you would quit speaking in riddles we would not so often have these misunderstandings.” Peering around the Elvin cloak, Gimli watched the Men of Helm's Deep hurry to and fro on their tasks. 

"Is there no place we can have a moment to ourselves, Legolas? This recess is only partially hidden." These moments were for them alone, not for wandering eyes. 

Shifting up slightly, Legolas drew Gimli closer, their bodies pressing together. His desire for the dwarf flared, he didn't try to control it. Soon Gimli would be able to feel it as clearly as Legolas himself.

"We are hidden here, beneath this cloak. The see only rock and stone, not hot bodies wanting together."

"Rocks do not move, elf," Gimli replied, smiling. The hot tautness of Legolas' body was encouraging a response in his. But a thought stopped his arousal in its tracks. Mates are much like wives, are they not? Dwarven wives were often wooed, then forced into submissiveness by the demands of the men once they married. Was this the case with elves? Is this why Legolas was talking of not always being with each other? To keep Gimli safe from being burdened by his demands?

But he was a warrior. The dwarf decided to meet this thought head on. 

"Legolas. . .Tell me truly, what do you want of a mate?" 

Sensing the tenseness in Gimli, Legolas pulled back. He could see well in this darkness, and knew his mate could as well. 

"I want only you. There are no standards, no rules for what we do. That which makes you happy will do the same for me." Leaning up, he opened his mouth, tongue touching his upper lip. Heat pooled in his groin.

"Tell me what you want of me, melethon-nin. That is all I need to know." He emphasized his words with a squeeze of Gimli's ass. It fit so well in his hands. 

"What I want is to be anywhere but here. A place where we can work our misunderstandings and our mining tools in peace. But that will not happen. I would take away your pain. Our losses have dug tunnels into all of us, and I know this digs deep into you." Gimli breathed deeply and pressed against the elf. "And I want your assurance that if we stay in this recess, no one will notice a moving rock." 

Stiffening at the words, the elf took a deep breath. All he could smell was Dwarf musk, sweat and warg blood.

"There may be a place to bathe in this tomb," he said shortly, pushing himself up. The cloak dropped, but there were no men in the passage at the moment. "It will not do to welcome Aragorn back in mourning smelling like dead warg." 

"But the King is gone, Legolas!" Gimli wondered if Legolas' grief had addled his brain. 

Ignoring his words, Legolas continued. "To come together as true heartmates for the first time, we should be clean." He stood and wrapped his cloak over Gimli's shoulders. "I -" uncommonly short of words, he paused, then looked down at the dwarf. "Thank you, Master Dwarf. I do not know how much longer I could have waited for you." 

He tucked a trailing edge up so they were practically bound together. "I wish to spend many hours with you beside me, just as you are." 

The edges of Gimli's eyes softened as he listened to the elf. His worries seemed ridiculous now..all except one.

Legolas still believed Aragorn lived. Troubled by the fear that the elf would lose his mind in mourning if something was not done, he sought a way to get them some time truly alone.

"Let me talk to Eowyn, my elf, and see if there is a bath to be had. It will be a few days until the enemy arrives, if they are following. Let us enjoy this time to rest." 

"There's scant time to rest, but we will make the most of what we find." Legolas gave Gimli a half-bow and freed him from the cloak, standing straight and tall beside him, one hand on the dwarf's shoulder. "Lead on."

*  
They had come farther than Gimli thought; the walk back up the passage was longer than expected. His shoulder was warm where Legolas held it, his body still tight from the closeness they had shared.

His mind was surprisingly calm.

Now that he'd made the decision; knowing it had been his choice and freely given, he would do nothing to tarnish it. He would be the mate of Legolas Greenleaf and let all and sundry say what they would. The people of Edoras were scattered through the halls of the keep. 

Frightened, tired, mourning the fallen and worried about the days to come, they cast a pall of misery that well matched the cold of the stones.

Stones far colder than the ones of Gimli's home, where the fires of the forge dwarves made the rocks feel alive.

Legolas stayed behind him, to the side, one hand always touching him even when they had to sidestep a sleeping body or a wandering child.

That point of connection made Gimli feel light. As if none of this could touch him. 

None of it could touch them. They had to ask several people as they worked their way closer to the King's niece. 

When they found her in the vast fortress, Gimli encouraged the elf to scan for signs of the enemy at the outer wall where they stood. He then took Eowyn aside.

Her eyes betrayed her sorrow, which she thought to share with Legolas.

"My Lady, my friend has not been able to mourn the passing of Aragorn. Is there a place where he could do so privately, and perhaps clean up?" 

The swordmaiden smiled. "Space is limited, my friend, with all of us here. But if you are willing to share a room with him, I can have someone fetch some water and towels for both of you." 

She then started to guide Gimli away from the wall. The dwarf looked behind them to call to Legolas, but as the elf was looking at straight him, somewhat bemused, he didn't need to. 

They followed the girl Eowyn found for them, young and frightened. She looked at Legolas with wide green eyes that glanced at Gimli only once during the walk, only to look up again.

She had never seen anything like the dwarf, Legolas knew. He did not wish her to be afraid of his friend, so he kept his hand on the broad shoulder and his body close behind. 

Of course, he also did it because the thought of not touching Gimli for the briefest of seconds was almost painful. 

Gimli could feel the heat coming off the elf in waves as he entered the room Eowyn gave them.

"Just put the bowl and towels on the table, lass. We can handle the rest."

The girl curtsied to them both after setting the supplies down, and left quickly.

The click of a shutting door had never felt so comforting to the dwarf.

But now that he was alone with Legolas, he had a task--to distract him from his grief. A pleasant task, given the elf seemed as interested as he, but an important one nonetheless. The elf needed to forget Aragorn was gone, even for a short time.

"Come, Legolas. Let us wash some of this stench off. I wish to be clean tonight." 

"Let me kindle the fire before we get wet," Legolas said, taking a step toward the blackened stone hole. He tugged at Gimli's shoulder, needing the Dwarf to follow him. "We will be warm this night despite the chill of this place." 

Gimli obediently followed where the elf led, but not without a bemused smirk. 

"You need help lighting a fire? Are you afraid to harm your precious trees?" 

Returning the smirk, Legolas bent to arrange the kindling already laid."The trees do not mind warming us, especially for the purpose of love." Laying a single spark, he crouched and watched the flames catch. 

Sliding his arm around Gimli's waist, he leaned into his lover, breathing the scent of him, eyes closed. 

Gimli was not quite comfortable with just being held, as it was not part of the life he had left and his times with Legolas were often..much more involved. But knowing Legolas probably needed this, he sat quietly in the embrace, if just a little stiffly. 

"Do you know what I want to do, after this war is over - after Aragorn does not need my bow?" 

Gimli shook his head against Legolas' shoulder, afraid to speak. /I do not want to make him worse. Will this distraction work?/

"I want to take you far away, where there are no Men and no Elves and no Dwarves. Somewhere we can just be Legolas and Gimli, together. For a while, at least. I fear you will grow bored with my company; one morning I will burst into song and you'll have at me with your axe!" he chuckled, thinking Gimli would do no such thing. "I'll have to make you a pair of earmuffs like the Men wear, so that you can't hear me." 

Gimli laughed in spite of his concerns. “A dwarf with earmuffs. That's absurd. But I may be able to tolerate your singing if your tune is about something interesting." 

"Then I shall have to write new songs," Legolas settled further down, pulling Gimli with him. He shifted a few times, uncomfortable. He prodded at Gimli, wanting to lay his head in the Dwarf's lap. 

Noticing Legolas' shifting, Gimli decided the hearth was not at all comfortable. So he rose and pulled at the elf. 

"Come, Legolas. The room is warming. We can use the basin Eowyn gave us, or at least be more comfortable on the bed." 

"Set the water close to the fire, that it may warm." Legolas used both hands to pull Gimli down. "I don't want to move, melethon. Sit here with me and listen to the quiet." 

Sighing at the elf's determination to be uncomfortable, Gimli retrieved the basin, towels, and a blanket from the bed. He was used to stone hearths, but a stone hearth below, and the weight of a muscular elf above was much for his still-battered body.

He laid bathing supplies near the fire then laid the blanket, and himself on top, next to Legolas. 

As the elf's arms came around him again, he sighed. "I will not leave you, Legolas. You needn’t clutch at me." Taken aback, Legolas pulled away slightly.

"I do not mean to be so. It feels, inside me - that I wish to be close. But I do not need to be so."

He lay down beside Gimli, on his stomach, head on folded arms. His elbow just brushed Gimli's side. Gimli sensed he had missed something here. Perhaps elves clutched at each other even when not drilling. So he tentatively laid a hand on Legolas' arm. 

"I do not know how to be close. I can be loyal and strong. But I was not taught how to be close."

"It's no harder than lying down," Legolas said. "All I ask is that you tell me when I make you uncomfortable. Between two such as us, there will always be issues to be sorted."

He loosened his hold, allowing Gimli the choice of staying or leaving. 

"We could move to the bed, if you'd be happier there. I know there is no time for more than a brief encounter." 

Pausing, he leaned close to whisper in Gimli's ear.

"Someday soon I will take you someplace private and we will come together for eternity. I yearn for that time with you." 

"Make up your mind, elf!" Gimli sighed and looked back at Legolas. The pale eyes looked at him and seemed to whisper to him. Forever, they said.

Forever was starting to sound. . .appealing.

But first they had to get through now. And Gimli knew that their errors-of-ways was not over yet. But maybe now, with this commitment between them, common ground would be easier to find.

"If you want to stay here, we'll stay here. What was your plan, mine-brother?" Gimli turned to face the elf without loosening the arms around him. 

"I am loathe to leave the fire," Legolas admitted. "It seems the only light in this dark place. And the rocks seem willing to share their cold." Looking at Gimli, Legolas smiled, a small, private smile. "Though I should say your heat will be enough to warm me. What was that you called me? 'Mine-brother'? Is this some dwarvish term of endearment, Melethon?"

"Mine-brothers are those who share their comforts when there are no dwarf women around. I know no other word to fit you." Gimli glances at his mate with a puzzled look. "We share only that comfort, there is no close as you want."

Legolas shifted at those words, his face hardened. He waited to see what else Gimli would say. 

The dwarf did not understand the elf's handling of their time together. If Gimli was his mate, should they not take advantage of their limited time to relieve Legolas' stress? For that was what mine-brothers did. He laid his hand on Legolas' chest. 

"Why are you waiting? Do you not desire comfort?" 

"I seek more than comfort, Master Dwarf." Letting his arms drop, Legolas pushed away, moving until he was sitting against the fireplace, his back to the stone."We are meant to be together, melethon. More than a matter of convenience. Through good and bad, mated." He clasped his hands and held them to his forehead, his hair spilling over him like a wind. "I thought you understood." 

Gimli tried to calm the elf's obvious agitation. "Loyalty I know, Legolas. As I do friendship. Dwarf wives are assistance as well as comfort in time of need or want. The gentler parts of this mating. . . well, I am not an elf, how can you expect me to know what you need?!" Gimli's frustration matched Legolas' by this point. But reminding himself that the elf needed his help, not his anger, he took a deep breath. "Show me how this mating is to be. For I fear I will do wrong until you teach me." 

"Not wrong, Gimli." Legolas dropped his hands between his legs and met the dwarf's dark eyes. "The fault is mine. When you agreed to be my mate as I wanted you to be, I believed you understood what you accepted."

"The matings of dwarves are not gentle, Legolas. I could not possibly know."

Leaning forward, Legolas spoke intently.

"Do not mistake love for gentleness, my dwarf. Mate or not, I am ever a warrior. Being with you, or you being with me will not change that." He moved swiftly, coming up to his knees, hands grabbing Gimli's shoulders.

"I want only what you can give, do you understand? Comfort when I need it, closeness when it feels right, your body as the whim takes us. It does not have to be one or the other! There are kingdoms between the extremes you describe; either 'mine-brother' or wife. We do not have to be either." 

"Then teach me, elf! Teach me closeness, teach me the gentleness a warrior can have. What is it that dwarves do not know about mating?" 

Gimli hesitantly ran his hair through the elf's golden locks, trying to imitate the gentle touch he had seen among the other members of the Fellowship, the touch he had felt from Legolas' own hand. 

"If there is love everything else is possible," leaning into the touch, Legolas caught his breath. "You must let your strong Dwarven heart lead you. Touch me as you will, and I will do the same. If I try to hold you -" once again he wrapped his arms around Gimli and pulled him close, into his arms and against his body. "- tell me if you do not wish it. Tell me what you want, Gimli-nin and you will learn all you need." 

"I want to know what that flame in your eyes feels like. Can it forge us into one, if I give in to it?" Gimli reached to feel the elf's strong back muscles move as he shifted, then under his tunic to feel the fire in his skin.

"I would want to know this feeling, my. ." Gimli grasped for something to hold onto, something that encompassed the growth of connection between them. "My mithril. For your worth to me is growing. I would leave all thought of mine-brothers behind for this fire." Gimli reached for a sign of gentleness. Nodding to himself, he pulled Legolas' head down to seal his lips to elf's smooth forehead. 

A shudder ran through the elf's body. His arms tightened, knowing he couldn’t hurt the dwarf. As the ruby lips touched his skin, he whispered. "Your worth to me cannot be measured."

He waited a moment, until Gimli let a breath of space come between them. With a lunge Legolas pushed Gimli backwards onto the floor, straddling him and holding him by the shoulders. "My fire burns bright enough to light the sky!"

Taking hold of the dwarf's tunic on either side, he gave it an experimental tug, then looked into his mate's eyes for agreement before he would rip it in two. Gimli's eyes shone with astonishment as the elf's mood changed more swiftly than the tide. "I need this tunic, oh gentle one, unless you know where there is another that will fit a dwarf."

"You can go into the hold skyclad, so everyone can see the mighty hammer of the dwarves!" Legolas teased. His eyes shone hot blue, but he unlaced the tunic and took it off with some care. His hands were shaking and his body tight. 

"And if another would approach me, your arrows would be drawn. I have noticed your discontent with Eowyn, my mithril." Gimli shook free of the tunic and started unbuttoning Legolas'. "But you have nothing to fear. Loyalty is well-known to me."

Seeing the smooth chest revealed was nothing compared to touching. Gimli abandoned the buttons as the expanse was revealed, and caressed its pale beauty roughly. The fire had caught, and its crackle nearly made Gimli miss the elf's next words. 

"I will give you loyalty, my dwarf. Loyalty, fidelity and honor. For you are my mate, the only love of my long life." With Gimli's tunic off and his bearish chest visible, Legolas bent to take a flat, hard nipple in his teeth. He teased it, chewing lightly, while his hands crept down the front of the dwarf's now too-tight breeches. 

A moan was wrenched from the dwarf and he grabbed at the strands of silk before him, harder than he meant. 

"Have we abandoned gentleness?" He pressed against the elf's hand and mouth simultaneously, wrapping his arm around the slender neck, trying to let the flame engulf him. Legolas pulled back long enough to gasp.

"There is a time and place for everything, melethon! I have waited too long for this to go slowly now!" he dove back down, taking Gimli's mouth harshly, invading it with his tongue. His hands wrapped around Gimli's thick drill and polished it firmly. 

Feeling the hot touch inside his breeches, Gimli rumbled in satisfaction. He pulled the elf's head down, remembering the passion contained in the other lip meetings they shared. This time, when his lips grasped onto Legolas', he tried to give part of himself as well, the part that had started to call the elf home.

Easing off his hold slightly, Legolas settled his weight onto Gimli, trusting the Dwarf's strength. Kissing him was becoming such a need; he was grateful Gimli seemed to have taken to it.

Wanting his lover to feel in control and not dominated, he allowed Gimli to lead the kiss and waited for him to do more. His hands continued their slow stoking; he didn't want the dwarf to peak too soon.

Gimli tugged at the sleeve of Legolas' tunic, silently asking the elf to finish removing it. He then turned his attention to running his hands down the pale chest and lower. As a stout hands outlined the bulge in the leather breeches, he could feel the elf's hips jerk.

He pushed up into Legolas' hand in response. Wanting this to last, he tried something he had never done before. He calmed himself and pulled the elf's head down to his shoulder. 

Wrapping his arms around the smooth back, he could feel both the elf's contentment and arousal.

"Can we have both closeness and drilling, my elf?" He asked, with laughter in his voice. 

"Both and more, master dwarf," Legolas murmured, snuggling into the embrace like an affection-starved kitten. It was like lying on a bed of forged iron; as hot as the metal the dwarves worked, yet as comfortable as a lover should be. "A time for one can become the time for another."

It took slight wriggling, but he got his tunic shifted off one shoulder and then the other. With his chest bare he could enjoy the sensation of thick hair, almost fur, against his skin. He rubbed himself against Gimli slowly, luxuriously.

Nuzzling into the dwarf's neck, under the thick beard, he bit gently on the strong pulse that throbbed there. The dwarf held Legolas' head down to his body.

"I did not realize how much I've wanted such things until now." He breathed heavily. "But what do you want? Would you spend our time in closeness only, or is your drill ready, my mithril?" As he said this, his hand moved to caress said object slowly.

Arching his back to press into that hand, Legolas sucked in a deep breath. When he spoke his voice was low and rougher. "I would have both! My drill in your cave, melethon, then your drill in mine. I would watch you as you seek the deepest parts of me." His hands tugged urgently at Gimli's breeches, he lifted his body up on his knees to make room. His hair fell around Gimli's head like a curtain. 

Arousal pulled harder at the dwarf as the elf spoke. To have everything at once, that was unexpected and most welcome. 

"Oh yes, a fine idea." He lifted his hips to aid the elf's motions, then sat up to remove his boots, pushing the elf aside gently. Once done, he set his sights on exposing the elf's body. 

He pulled at Legolas' boots, putting each aside carefully. 

Once done, he looked to Legolas' eyes and smiled. 

"Is there any oil?" First concerned for his mate's health, Legolas looked around the room. He hadn't planned this, exactly, but there should be something..."Ah!" 

In the rocks on the fireplace was a small pot; from past experience with humans, Legolas hoped it would contain cooking oil, used to soften leather and meat equally. He took it in hand, it was already warmed by the flames.

Setting it down near the dwarf, he thought a moment before going to the bed and pulling off the rest of the stack of blankets.

"These will ease your knees, Melethon. I would not have you bruised by my desire."

He waited until he caught Gimli's eyes, hands sliding down his chest, caressing himself. They stopped at the top of his leggings, and he waited for approval. Gimli nodded slightly as he sat on some of the blankets to watch. 

Looking over his mate, Legolas registered the redness of his lips, the movement of the barrel chest as Gimli breathed heavily. He ran his thumbs around the drawstring waist, lowering the leggings just enough to tease, showing the line of flank and shadow of loin. 

Gimli laughed. 

"You are out to torture me." He would not be the only one tortured though. The dwarf shifted so that he could expose all to the elf. He ran his fingers down his member as Legolas' eyes followed the motion. 

"Ah, you tease me!" Legolas grinned, approving. "There is a place for torture in a mine, yes?"

He pushed his leggings down to his knees, then kicked them off while his hands circled his groin. He barely brushed his arrow with the tips of his fingers, shuddering at even that light touch. 

"It seems there is in this mine." Gimli grinned and laid back, eyes wavering between Legolas' face and his cock. 

"But it is such a fine torture." Stepping between Gimli's legs, Legolas bent slightly to see him better, using his feet to spread the dwarf's legs further apart. The heaviness of Gimli's organ, the richness of his musk; Legolas was dizzy with it. 

He dropped to his knees, straddling Gimli, both hands on his own arrow, stroking it slowly.

"I want you from behind," he whispered, looking wild with his hair loose and his body tight. "I want to watch the muscles in your back as my drill goes deep." With Legolas so close and so aroused, Gimli was having trouble breathing, let alone finding words. But somehow he found them. 

"Then let me up. Or I will take the leap before your drill finds my mine." His hand reached up to caress the elf's member slowly for a minute, then dropped to let the elf move. Legolas raised himself on hands and knees, making just enough room for Gimli to turn beneath him. His head spun when Gimli touched him and he ached to have that touch again as soon as it was gone.

But he had a goal - he held himself firm until his mate was positioned beneath him. Gimli balled up some blankets to use as a nest as he settled into place. Looking back, he whispered. 

"How did you do this, Legolas? It is not only my mine that is open." He shook his head, not having the words to express the thoughts going through his head. "Is this how elves mate, then? With this feeling that is both a victory and a surrender?" 

"This is what closeness brings," Legolas leaned to bite at Gimli's neck and shoulders. Gently, but with enough force for it to be felt. His hands fumbled for the oil, clumsy in his need.

"And this is what it means to be a mate? To feel both possessor and possessed? To feel overwhelmed by your presence?" Gimli shifted to watch Legolas' unnaturally clumsy movements. /He is as overwhelmed as I am. By Elbereth!/

Legolas dripped oil over Gimli's back and thighs, using the fingers of his free hand to rub it in. He wasn't particularly careful, need made him hasty.

"This is what it means," he half-growled, pushing in past the resistance with only minimal preparation. He held himself right there at the beginning, letting Gimli feel him, laying his weight on top of the dwarf. "This is what it means to be mated. This feeling, here; I in you and you in me." He shuddered, barely able to hold himself back. 

Gimli's head swam with a combination of physical sensations and emotions. He had one thought: I want it all. So he pushed back onto the elf. And a scream sliced the air.

"No!" Gasping after his scream, Legolas struggled to keep Gimli still. His fingers dug deep into thickly muscled dwarven hips. "This is what it means, yes, but there is such a thing as haste, Master Dwarf!" 

Gimli gasped at the feeling of fullness within him. The arousal roaring in his ears allowed him to only hear the word No before his concentration wavered. "I thought this was what you wanted." 

"Want, yes - but I would like it to last more than a breath!" Legolas rested his forehead on Gimli's neck. "Ai, Melethon, you make me want to scream. You make me want to crawl inside you and eat you alive."

The panting gradually took effect and he was able to move after a few minutes. The tightness around him and the sweaty musk in the air made him moan as he began a slow, easy rhythm. 

The elf's movements also wrenched a moan out of Gimli. This was what he wanted. The dwarf pushed back with each slow stroke, causing sensations that shot through Gimli like the elf's arrows. His teeth clenched to be able to form words through the pleasurable torment. 

"I would forgo the mines if I could hear more screams like that, or to feel this!" He clenched his internal muscles for a second, and chuckled at the gasp his action produced. 

A short scream escaped Legolas, who grinned fiercely. He leaned, wrapped both arms around Gimli's broad chest and pulled him up suddenly, changing the angle and depth of penetration. Clamping his teeth tightly on the thick skin at the base of his mate's neck, Legolas thrust hard and fast, knowing his lover could take it.

"if - all - mines - were -as hot..." he panted between clenched teeth, "as yours, melethon -- I would never leave them!" 

Gimli shuddered against Legolas’ chest. Taking deep breaths, he concentrated on not letting this end too soon. He too wanted his time to drill. 

He decided Legolas' time had come. He leaned back to bite at the elf's arm and clenched his muscles again. He licked at the coppery taste on his lips as he was buffeted by Legolas' movements. The pain grounded Legolas, let him bite back the third scream that would have passed his lips. Shoving his hands down to Gimli's groin, he grabbed him at the junction of flank and thigh, using that leverage to pound him harder. He would make the dwarf scream before he lost control. 

Perceiving the challenge in Legolas' movements, Gimli counted to five to calm himself. He needed more to win this 'battle.' Through pleasure's haze, he thought up a strategy.

He took a deep breath. "Give me all of you, my mate." 

"Ah, Gimli -" Legolas gasped. "Do not speak to me so!" he fought to control his contrary desire. 

"But you are my mate, Legolas, and you are what I want." He licked at the wound he created, tasting the elf's life and vivacity. 

"Ah.." giving up the battle, Legolas threw his head back and loosed a rending scream. The sound bounced off the walls, coming back at him as he screamed again.

"Mine! Mine! My mate!" he howled, clutching Gimli as hard as he could. He shuddered, then stilled, pouring his seed into his lover, feeling it flood the mine, heat rushing through him. 

Gimli smiled as felt the archer's hands embed themselves in his hips. This was even better than counting orcs. As he felt the elf lean against his back, the dwarf reached to caress the golden strands swarming over his chest. 

"You should know better than to challenge a dwarf, my mithril."

Legolas made a soft sound and let himself start to slide off to the side. He felt soft and hot, open and ready for Gimli.

Lazily he lifted a hand and touched the dwarf's face, running a quivering finger down the bulbous nose.

"Come to me, melethon-nin. Do with me what you will." 

As the elf detached himself, Gimli slowly turned to help him lay on his back among the blankets. His arousal, fierce just minutes ago, was now strong but languorous. 

He grabbed the oil and positioned himself between Legolas' legs as if in a dream. A dream world of their own creation, where, for a time, this was their only reality. Wanting to feel the elf in all ways, he spread oil on his fingers, then lay his head on the smooth abdomen as he reached down to that waiting cavern. 

The head on his stomach was heavy, the hair faintly scratchy. Moving a hand with effort, Legolas pressed on it, holding Gimli's cheek to him.

His legs spread further apart, giving the dwarf plenty of room. Gimli's thick fingers filled him slowly. His breath flowed over Legolas' skin and it twitched. "Please..." he whispered softly. 

Gimli felt Legolas' voice ripple through his slender frame. Ah, such a melody, even in the vibrations. It could make rocks fall without a hammer touching them. As he twisted his fingers inside the elf, the ripple sharpened. But Gimli was content to stay in this slow haze of arousal that seemed to surround them both. 

He rubbed his beard against the skin beneath it, sighing at the silky texture. 

"Patience, my elf." He slowly moved into a better position between Legolas' legs and licked at the smooth hips. Spreading his arms wide, fisting the blankets, Legolas arched his back, offering himself to his mate. The rough brush of Gimli's beard on such sensitive skin made him crazy. He shuddered, anticipating the next touch. 

The air felt think around them. He knew they were in a bed-chamber, knew they were on the floor together, but somehow he felt they were floating. And he knew Gimli felt the same thing. Rubbing his rough hands against muscled thighs, the dwarf straightened and took the oil in hand once again. It felt warm as it drizzled onto his drill, as it had been laying next to the elf's arm. 

The oil was not as warm, however, as the elf’s cavern. He inched his way carefully, mining for the delicate jewels housed in Legolas. Even more than the moans and cries, the dwarf slowly, carefully mined to find the whispers of the elf's soul. Wrapping his legs around Gimli's waist, Legolas was surprised to find himself calm again. Still excited, still needy, but... calm. As if his heart knew what was about to happen and he needed to be aware to feel it.  
Gimli knew. The dwarf knew what they were about and he was going through with it.

"Always be together," Legolas whispered, bringing his hands up to pull on the beard, drawing Gimli's head down. "I would taste you as you test me." 

Words felt wrong as he drowned in the sparkling eyes moving closer. So he just sucked at the red lips, wanting to take the whispers inside himself as he thrust below.

It was as if someone threw a dry log onto the slow fire between them. The thrusts set off sparks, bursts of pleasure behind his eyes, that seemed to travel through him to Legolas. Gimli thrust into Legolas' body and the elf thrust his tongue into Gimli.

Marking the time of their join, he rocked with the heavier body. Energy burned under his skin, he absorbed it from his lover. His lover, his mate, his future.

There would be no more lonely nights for Legolas Greenleaf.

"More, melethon," he gasped, shifting himself down in a fluid movement, his body turned to liquid fire. With his hips in the air and his head thrown back, he sought to take in as much of Gimli as he could. "More..." he moaned. 

Still silent, Gimli let his body speak for him as he sped up his thrusts. I will take care of you, I want to give to you, I want us to be as one. This was said in the care he took that each thrust created a gasp, in his firm hold on the elf's hips, the concentration in his eyes.

The dwarf held his body at the ready, through his determined control, to wait. The elf would find his pleasure first. This would prove his commitment to their mating. 

Held by Gimli's strength, reveling in it, Legolas wondered dimly if his mate was holding back. It seemed so to him. 

He knew better than to believe it was because Gimli had doubts. He knew him well enough to understand what the dwarf wanted.

Opening his eyes and staring up at him, seeing the bushy hair gone wild and the dark eyes glittering, as bright as if this were a battle, it was easy for Legolas to let go and give it to him.

His body convulsed, drawing Gimli's drill in as far as it could go. He clutched at his lover, hands frantic, needing to touch as much of him as possible. His lip bled as he bit it, not wanting to lose a particle of this moment, holding it all inside him, as he held Gimli.

The pull of Legolas' climax drew him in..deeper into the elf's body and closer to that steady flaming soul. As the long hands clenched at his beard, his arms, they passed the flame onto him, combining with his own.

The heat spread quickly through his body, and with one last thrust, he let the inferno engulf him. One word choked out of him. 

"Love. . ."And a mystified look spread across his face as he collapsed against the elf's side. 

Gathering the dwarf close to him with unsteady limbs, Legolas wrapped himself as tightly around the shorter being as he could.

It wasn't an easy fit; not graceful and comfortable, their curves and angles didn't fit together so well as two elves might.

His body was shivering with the after-effects of their joining. Gimli felt good in his arms, his skin hot.

"Love," he whispered in near-silent agreement. 

"This is love?" Gimli gazed into the elf's eyes. "This..fire? This forge?" He put his hand over his breast. "What is made in this fire?" 

"Forever." Legolas covered Gimli's hand with his own. His voice was low and completely serious as he met the dark eyes. "No dwarf has ever crafted so sturdy a blade as your heart. What is forged in this fire is forever." 

"This will not be easy, my elf." Gimli sighed as he lay against a smooth shoulder. "But you have chosen, and so has my heart. We will fight for this."

Curling in the blankets, Legolas wrapped himself around Gimli as much as he could. The differences in their sizes made this a pleasant endeavor, as the dwarf fit rather neatly beneath him. With Legolas' head on the burly chest, both arms around the waist, one leg hitched high over the now-quiescent drill, the other pressed firmly into Gimli's thigh. 

He breathed in deeply, letting the scent of his mate; rich, warm and meaty - flow into him. It settled his soul as nothing had before. 

Petting the shimmering hair falling around his shoulders, Gimli looked down, bemused. 

"We cannot fight in battle if you intend to forge us together this way, as pleasant as it is." 

A thought struck him, making his hands still. "I do not intend to perish tomorrow."

Nuzzling deeper into thick chest hair, like a forest for his face, Legolas pressed a kiss to the hard muscle beneath.

"You shall not." 

"Do not forget you are mortal in battle too, Legolas. The mines would be cold without you by my side." The dwarf drowsed in the heat of the elf, trying to push the worry to the back of his mind. He was not used to this type of concern. It was unnerving. So he joked. "Your tall body makes an excellent draft barrier." 

"Yours, however, lacks something as a mattress," Legolas looked back up at him and gifted the dwarf with a brilliant smile. He stood, in one smooth movement, skin rippling in the firelight, then bent low. Before Gimli could protest the elf had scooped him up like a child; one arm under his knees, the other beneath his shoulders.

"No, wait -" he warned when Gimli would have complained. With a shift of hip and arm he flipped the dwarf up to face him, with Gimli's legs going automatically around his waist.

With both hands on Gimli's shoulders he leaned close and kissed him gently. "I also serve as a draft animal."

Gimli laughed. "Your hair does remind me of the hobbits' pony. Where are we journeying to, my steed?" 

"Somewhere softer, my iron-muscled warrior." With short steps Legolas brought them to the bed on the other side of the chamber. "Will you lie with me and stay with me, melethon?" he paused at the side, wanting -- needing -- Gimli to stay with him, but willing to let the dwarf leave if he needed that distance. Room to think. 

Gimli nodded. "It would be shameful of me to go elsewhere. Nor do I wish to." The dwarf looked up at the smooth face. "Do you still need?" 

Legolas lay down on the bed, on his side, Gimli still wrapped to him.

"Only this and you," the elf sighed, resting his cheek on the heavy beard. "Gimli, I have waited so long. For you to be this to me, it is..." 

He couldn't find the words he wanted. His hold on the dwarf tightened and Gimli was treated to an example of just how strong elves really were, despite their delicate-looking frames. 

"It is." Gimli replied definitively as he felt the graceful muscles flex their power. "And we shall be stronger on the morrow because of it." 

"It is," Legolas murmured, loving the simplicity of this answer. He rolled them both over, and again, the movement igniting a fire in his groin. They came to rest at the top of the bed, where there were yet more blankets to crawl beneath.

"Is sleep the first thing on your mind this moment, Melethon?" he whispered, dropping his head to burrow into heavy beard, seeking and finding thick, corded neck muscles to test his teeth upon. 

"It is too soon, my elf. I would not have you hurt by my own hand." Gimli gently smoothed his hand down the elf's flank. "Dwarves are much coarser than elves, and I could mar that perfect skin." 

"Would that sadden you, my dwarf?" Legolas propped himself up on his elbows, fingers combing through thick hair. "Do you prefer me unmarked and shining?" He tightened his fingers in the hair, tugging on it, pulling it tight. "Would you love me less? Are you as blind as my father's people, who see only beauty where strength resides!" With a lunge he propelled himself backward, up onto his knees, dragging Gimli with him, using the hair as handles.

"You may try to hurt me, melethon-nin, but no dwarf will best an elf in a contest of love!"

Leaning over, he took Gimli's mouth in a hard kiss. It was far more exciting than it should have been. Just as he realized his own mouth would be bruised, Legolas understood that he needed this, too. He needed to show his strength. To ease Gimli's fears and set the tone between them. He would not come to his mate as less than an equal. 

"Ouch! Are you mad, elf?" The dwarf grabbed at his hair and tried to pull it from Legolas' grip.

The kiss took him by surprise. 

It felt similar to the games played by dwarf children where hands are squeezed until someone begs for mercy. Well, he wouldn't beg.

He bit at the lips attached to his, worrying them until he smelled a hint of copper.

Pulling back, Gimli growled. "You are inviting trouble, you crazy tree-loving imbecile!" 

"I do love trees," Legolas grinned, his mouth released. He licked at the blood welling from Gimli's tooth marks. "I love trees and one particularly stubborn, hairy, strong, brave Dwarf." 

He leaned in again, not loosening his grip on Gimli's hair, this time biting at the strong jaw, nipping just hard enough to sting.

"I wonder..." he worked his way to a cauliflower ear and chewed on the pendulous lobe. "What sort of trouble would I receive if I found something else for this bellowing mouth to do?"

He moved, shifting his hips, thighs spreading. His arrow rose proudly between them, darkening to golden, his body responding to his mate and his hunger.

"Mark my fair skin, melethon. Taste my hunger for you, show me what trouble can be." he pulled, more gently, on the hair he held. He would not force his mate to any action, and made sure Gimli understood that, meeting the dark eyes. 

This was a game. Yes, a game, but so serious the same. Legolas hovered on the edge of passion, wanting to free his restraint. Wanting Gimli to free his own. 

Hovering between arousal and anger, the dwarf looked into the shining blue orbs. The elf was not a dwarf. He should not have to choose a rough rutting where smooth seduction was available.

His confusion added to the rasp in his voice. "Rough, hurting ruttings remind dwarves they are alive. What use are they to an elf?" 

"They..." Legolas licked his lips again, eyes slightly glazed. His fingers traveled up the loops of hair he held, until just the tips rested on Gimli's cheekbones. He pressed there gently. "They remind us that we are warriors before all. We may be scholars and healers and poets, but first we are fighters."

He bowed his head and tugged gently to bring Gimli's up until their foreheads touched.

"Do not so gently treat me, melethon. Elves are not fragile creatures of light. We feel the same fire your dwarves burn in. I would share that heat with you, if you are willing. Come to me, strength to strength, and see that I am not to be broken by your touch." 

Gimli grabbed the elf's hand and squeezed. He felt the answering pressure and smiled. "I am foolish once again, you are definitely mithril. How do elves play their fight, oh elf of the sharp arrow?" 

"Never foolish, only beloved." Legolas kissed him again, tenderly this time, his tongue sweeping into hot dwarf mouth to taste iron ore and darkness. "We play as anyone else would. Now, given the choice, I would have your mouth, to use as I will." he leaned back, torso arched, exposed. Muscles under his golden skin, smooth lines of power.

With both hands he tugged on Gimli's hair, pulling his head downward with steady tension. His legs spread even wider as he anticipated. Seeing what Legolas intended, he finished the downward move and nipped at the head of the arrow in front of him. The dwarf scraped strong teeth down the length as he held the elf's hips down on the mattress.

The elf wanted trouble. Gimli would give it to him. 

Legolas groaned deeply as he felt teeth on his arrow. Teeth and tongue and the promise of strength. He gripped the hair more tightly and pulled, firmly, bringing Gimli's mouth where he wanted it.

He gave the dwarf a moment to think about it, then pressed the tip to the cherry-red mouth.

"Let me in." 

Gimli took the arrow in, sucking strongly around it. Putting weight on his arms, he held the elf's hips, not letting him gain purchase. 

A slow rhythm developed as he left the arrow completely, then dove down to suck hard at it again. It pained his jaw, but the moans above him made him feel more alive than any rutting in the dark ever had. Moaning freely, not worried that anyone would hear him, Legolas let Gimli do as he chose for the moment. Then the need grew stronger. He pushed against the hands restraining him, working to get deeper in that hot throat. 

"Ah, Gimli, You - I would take you this way, have you..." he panted, hands moving to the back of the dwarf's head. He held him in place, taking long, deep strokes that made him shake. 

Gimli resisted the change for a moment, then let it be. He set his mouth so teeth scraped once again against the arrow, and let his mate have his way. Legolas groaned loudly, feeling the thrill of those teeth from the top of his spine to the bottom of his feet.

"Yes, melethon," he panted, increasing the force and tempo of this thrusts. "Yes, let me..." 

It was good, to feel this way. To rise above his lover, his mate and take him thus. For Gimli to allow it, it set his blood on fire.

He looked down, legendary eyesight actually blurred with pleasure, and beheld a sight never seen by Elvin eyes.

The dwarf was on his knees. His wonderfully heavy head was bent to his task, broad shoulders lurching slightly with every thrust.

"You are a mountain, my dwarf," Legolas moaned. "A wall of stone stronger than the wind. Thicker than time and - oh - a wonder to behold!"

The coarse hair was everywhere. Legolas could feel his own, sticking to his skin, flying around his head. He tipped it back, felt the tickle of it across his shoulder blades.

He moaned again, unable to slow his body, though suddenly he wanted to.  
Wanted to stretch this moment out, to stare at his mate before him like this forever. Fat ruby lips wide and round, taking him and dragging his soft skin on the way out. Grunting breaths puffed on his belly, the shake of barrel chest.

"By the Valar, I am not the beautiful one here," Legolas whispered, just before need took him and he lost all thought. 

The damned elf had too much control if he could speak. Gimli decided enough was enough and swiftly took the arrow in until his nose settled into the blond hairs at the base.

Gimli wrested control back and Legolas lost it. His body arched harder, backwards, hands gripping the big head fiercely as he shot his seed to its target.

He held Gimli there as long and hard as he could, wanting the moment to last forever. 

After a few minutes, Gimli pulled back so he could breathe properly. "Now you have a dwarf's mark." He pointed to the bruising his hands caused on the elf's hips. "Is that more to your liking?" 

Sagging, Legolas kept his hands on the dwarf for support. He studied the bruises with pleasure.

"Exactly what I wanted, melethon." he leaned down to kiss the dwarf, tasting a hint of his own on those lips. He took his time, enjoying the kiss, but very much aware that Gimli had yet to be satisfied. "Let me thank you properly..."

Gently now, he pushed Gimli back until the dwarf was lying flat.

"You are not cold, are you?" 

"Legolas, I am far from cold." Gimli bucked up against the elf's hands. "My furnace is ablaze." 

"Your fire does not need to be stoked?" Legolas teased, running his hands down the burly chest to the deep vee of groin, where Gimli's drill stood thick and wide.“I know that to extinguish a campfire you smother it; perhaps that will cool your flames as well." As he spoke he swung a leg over Gimli's thighs and scooted up to straddle him. With a grin he leaned back, letting his hair sweep the dwarf's legs. His ass rested firmly on the swollen drill. Deciding the elf STILL talked too much, Gimli grunted and thrust up as he pulled down on Legolas' hips. With an un-elf-like grunt, Legolas let himself slide all the way down. He was not sore from the earlier lovemaking, but his mate was rather large to be taken in so quickly, with so little preparation. 

Determined to keep the mood taut, he did not pause to adjust, but lifted himself on strong thighs and thrust down again, taking Gimli hard.

He made a low sound, almost a yelp. The dwarf groaned as the heat enveloped him. The strength of the thrust, the bolts of pleasure, had him gasping words. 

"Legolas. By Elbereth." He thrust up with a yell worthy of a warrior. 

"Now - who's - talking too much?" Legolas bit the words out between clenched teeth. He bared them, feral, and took Gimli harder. He felt it, the pressure in his back and butt, the way his muscles clenched in protest. He was doing this too hard, too fast, but it felt too good to stop. Like the middle of a battle, when his arms felt like they were going to fall off if he lifted his blades one more time. Then the enemy was there and it was like he could go on forever. 

Slash and cut and thrust and bleed...

Up and down and in and out and Gimli's chest worked like a bellows, keeping the fire between them well-stoked. Wrapping his fingers in silken strands, Gimli pulled, forcing the elf's head back. Oh what a sight. The bruises on Legolas' skin shined, as beautiful as the unmarked skin. Only one more word needed to be said. 

"Mine!"

Another thrust up had him gasping and on the edge. With his head at such an angle Legolas couldn't see Gimli, but he felt that word through his body. 

He shuddered, forcing himself down harder and faster, taking his mate deeper than he'd ever taken anyone.

As it should be. The thought flew in and out of his mind so fast he hardly had time to register it, and then he was coming, his arrow untouched. The bruises on his skin ached with fresh, vibrant pain as he froze in space, feeling Gimli inside him, below him, a part of him. He fell forward, limbs weak, and whispered as he grabbed those sturdy shoulders.

"My own." 

With his blood roaring through his veins, Gimli released himself into Legolas. 

The pleasure buffeted him, turning his vision black. He drifted on the waves until drops of moisture fell on him, making him refocus his eyes to find the cause.

He smiled and rasped. "You look like I was drowning you, instead of drilling." 

Resting peacefully beneath Gimli's weight, Legolas held his mate loosely as they caught their breath. 

"Drilled me indeed you have, melethon. Now we must rest. Tomorrow we will stand before the armies of darkness together." Gimli yawned and settled against the elf. "We will make the darkness retreat."

Slipping in to dreams, he knew he would have to hold up his strength for Legolas. For without Aragorn to lead them. . .

His thoughts then turned to dreams of what he could do with his mate in the future.

*  
Sorting armor wasn't a glamorous task, not that any were in this godforsaken cold rock tomb. He missed the sound of running water and the smell of earth and trees, arching over his head like a lady's bower.

It was just something that had to be done. Something to keep his hands busy while his soul balanced between the two forces that buffeted it. 

Gimli watched him from the other side of the room, and Legolas felt that observance deep inside, where it made his heart sing.

But Aragorn was far from sight, and though Legolas did not doubt his survival, whether the King he served would return in time to lead them was a great weight that burdened him.

Caught between the two, Legolas sorted armor. 

Gimli polished the weapons with one eye on the elf. His mate looked good. He mustn't be worrying too much about the King's death. But there were other concerns now. 

"Do we have enough armor, my elf?" 

"Nowhere near, my dwarf. But we will make do, as we must."

Suddenly, the door swung open. 

Bending down, the elf picked up another breastplate, this one as old and stiff as the others.

"You two can 'make do' better than twenty men can fight." 

Gimli turned his head and beheld the second most beautiful sight he saw that day. 

"Aragorn!"

The sudden rush of tears to his eyes made Legolas dizzy. He hid it quickly, turning to face his human companion.

"You're late."

The king smiled gently at the elf. 

"I was detained." He clutched at Legolas' shoulder to reassure both of them that he was here. "You look terrible."

The King smiled at Legolas as the elf handed over his precious Evenstar. Glancing pointedly at Gimli, Aragorn whispered. 

"You have done well by him, my friend. But take care, he needs more care than elves to strengthen his love. It will follow you to the Havens if you love him truly."

The King nodded at the dwarf with a small smile, then took his leave to meet with Theoden. Looking after Aragorn with a faint smile, Legolas put down what he was working on and turned slowly. He could feel Gimli's eyes on him, warming him in this cold stone keep. There were a lot of humans in the room. Despite that, or perhaps because of it, the elf decided he would stake his claim plainly. 

Aragorn had returned from the dead, surely no one would be surprised by – now the elf walked over to the dwarf, leaned over, took his bearded face in both hands, and kissed him deeply. 

Shocked but enthusiastic, Gimli kissed his elf back with fervor. Then, pulling back slightly, he looked into shining eyes. 

"What was that for, my own?" 

"I'm celebrating." Legolas turned to look at the room, his eyes daring anyone to challenge them. "The King just gave me permission to follow you for the rest of your life." 

Gimli let out a resounding chortle. 

"You would have done so without it, I know you. You'll just now declare it a royal decree." His hands encircled the elf's arms in a warrior's embrace. "I will hold you to that. But now we have to prepare. There are orcs to fight!" 

"And a life to live," Legolas whispered, going down for another kiss, heedless of the time and place. "With you beside me."

 

~~ the end ~~


End file.
